Night and Day

We return to last
night's space, emptied of busy-
ness: crowdless-quiet.

In praise-be-to-God,
dappled sunlight, I write two
poems: Then, and Now.

Drinking sunrise wine,
under wind-rustled leaves, I
act out the cliché.

20-28 July 2008


I wrote this the day after this year's Music in the Park event in Wanstead Park (see previous entry, and last year's "Salsa in the Park", 21 July 2007), when William begged me to take him back to the Park, so he cld explore the woods. We packed a picnic, and invited his friend, Ben, to come along. I sat under a tree, with a glass of rosé, while the boys rampaged about. I felt frightfully romantic, while I wrote the two poems, the previous one, and this one (or rather, started them, as it took me a week to decide on final(ish) drafts...). I had a debate with myself about the title: other options: "Revisited", "Paradise Revisited", and "Returning". If I had used "Night, and Day" in the last line of the second haiku/verse, I wld have used one of the other titles. I also originally had "Gerard's" or "Hopkins' ", instead of "praise-be-to-God", but I prefer this, though maybe it's a bit too clever, clever (or maybe the whole idea is a bit too self-consciously referential?).