The Children Look At The Parents
A. S. J. Tessimond
We being so hidden from those who Have quietly borne and fed us, How can we answer civilly Their innocent invitations? How can we say "we see you As but-for-God's-grace-ourselves, as Our caricatures (we yours), with Time's telescope between us"? How can we say "you presumed on The accident of kinship, Assumed our friendship coatlike, Not as a badge one fights for"? How say "and you remembered The sins of our outlived selves and Your own forgiveness, buried The hatchet to slow music; Shared money but not your secrets; Will leave as your final legacy A box double-locked by the spider Packed with your unsolved problems"? How say all this without capitals, Italics, anger or pathos, To those who have seen from the womb come Enemies? How not say it?
Next 10 Poems
- A. S. J. Tessimond : The Man In The Bowler Hat
- A. S. J. Tessimond : To Be Blind
- A. S. J. Tessimond : Tube Station
- A. S. J. Tessimond : Unlyric Love Song
- A. S. J. Tessimond : Wet City Night
- Dylan Thomas : 1/1/1939
- Dylan Thomas : A Letter To My Aunt
- Dylan Thomas : A Process In The Weather Of The Heart
- Dylan Thomas : A Refusal To Mourn The Death, By Fire, Of A Child In London
- Dylan Thomas : All All And All The Dry Worlds Lever
Previous 10 Poems
- A. S. J. Tessimond : The British
- A. S. J. Tessimond : Symphony In Red
- A. S. J. Tessimond : Seaport
- A. S. J. Tessimond : Sea
- A. S. J. Tessimond : Quickstep
- A. S. J. Tessimond : Polyphony In A Cathedral
- A. S. J. Tessimond : One Almost Might
- A. S. J. Tessimond : O
- A. S. J. Tessimond : Nursery Rhyme For A Twenty-first Birthday
- A. S. J. Tessimond : Not Love Perhaps