Saturday, January 22, 2005

Halfway

"And age, and then the only end of age"
Philip Larkin, Dockery and Son
http://www.poemhunter.com/p/m/poem.asp?poet=6611&poem=33807


Breasting the ridge, the vista opened out;
Breathless, we stopped, as our eyes absorbed
The falling foreground, and beyond it, our destination.

We'd started at a bold and striding pace, hardly conscious
Of the gentle slope, idly switching from track
To track at each junction, zig-zagging
Upwards as our comrades dispersed
As they made different choices.
The horizon was the goal on
Which all thought focused:
There would be peace
And rest.

But…
Now we
Can see the
Sort of peace
That we can expect;
The length of rest with
Which our journey ends;
And we can also see the
Convergence of every path
At one point, distant, but finitely so.

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