The Coastguard’s Cottage<\/p>\n
Tu non ricordi la casa dei doganieri We never forgot the coastguard\u2019s cottage Or, rather, the plans I<\/em> had that day. The sea has thrown foam at its old walls for years, Still no one lives here! Whoever once did (They must also have read: We would have had a garden Today the wind spins a plastic compass We never forgot the coastguard\u2019s cottage <\/p>\n <\/p>\n The End of the World I have left them behind, to walk the shore and, with it, the end our millions of stars! My one child lies curled <\/p>\n <\/p>\n The Life to Come<\/p>\n The next time I hope Amazing to think Hard to imagine How good it would be The Coastguard’s Cottage Tu non ricordi la casa dei doganieri sul rialzo a strapiombo sulla scogliera \u2013 Montale We never forgot the coastguard\u2019s cottage out on the tip of Cranfield Point. Still no one lives there; maybe it\u2019s waiting for us to make up our minds and move in? The plans we had the day […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":145,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[327,328],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n
\nsul rialzo a strapiombo sulla scogliera<\/em>
\n \u2013 Montale<\/p>\n
\nout on the tip of Cranfield Point.
\nStill no one lives there; maybe it\u2019s waiting
\nfor us to make up our minds and move in?
\nThe plans we had the day we drove out!<\/p>\n
\n\u2018To think it\u2019s for sale,\u2019
\nI said \u2013 and you:
\n\u2018How would the children get to school?
\nAnd when they have gone, what will we<\/em> do?\u2019<\/p>\n
\nyears spent watching \u2013 or, rather,
\nnot<\/em> watching \u2013 our children grow
\n(and, one by one, our parents die \u2013 yours,
\nas we guessed, the last to go).<\/p>\n
\nplayed cards \u2013 and dice.
\nThrough the window I see someone\u2019s last throw!
\nAnd there\u2019s his last hand, the one he does
\nnot, in the end, have to show\u2026<\/p>\n
\non a high empty shelf, a great silver A<\/em>
\nwith (bottom right) a matching Z<\/em>;
\nthey left the heavy bookends
\nwhen they packed the books away.)<\/p>\n
\n\u2013 with a drop to the rocks below! \u2013
\nsome space at long last for the children,
\ninstead of the tiny, cluttered yard in
\nwhich kitten and pup \u2013 and they \u2013 had to grow.<\/p>\n
\n\u2013 a wonder it never snatched it away! \u2013
\nlying how long since what
\nbad-tempered day
\na child threw it down on the grass?<\/p>\n
\nout on the tip of Cranfield Point.
\n\u2018I doubt,\u2019 you said, \u2018we ever will.
\nI wonder if the house itself
\nisn\u2019t waiting for us still?\u2019<\/p>\n
\n(Homage to Andrei Tarkovsky)<\/em><\/p>\n
\ncamped around
\nthe television, their faces
\nflickering in the gloom,<\/p>\n
\nin the still-warm
\nnight. Tomorrow will see
\nthe end of the world<\/p>\n
\nof TV and sand;
\nthese swallows \u2013 or martins \u2013
\nthe sky where they shone,<\/p>\n
\n(All the places
\nwe never saw! And now, it\u2019s sure,
\nnever will, being gone\u2026)<\/p>\n
\nasleep upstairs
\nwhere I part the curtains
\nto look at the sea.<\/p>\n
\nmy mother will live
\ndecidedly longer \u2013 that she may see
\nmy two children born; her son a grown man.
\nOne red rose was all
\nTime gave me to give!<\/p>\n
\nhow many I\u2019ve had \u2013
\nlives, that is (and deaths!), though loves, too, for sure;
\nhow many indeed since the dawn of Time!
\nAll\u2019s been forgotten,
\nthe good and<\/em> the bad.<\/p>\n
\nI could be given
\na luckier life, a luckier break
\nfrom all those aeons of non-existence,
\nthe hot fires of Hell,
\ncold rooms in Heaven.<\/p>\n
\nto live it again,
\nmy mother below in the scullery,
\nin the attic above my teenage self
\ndreaming teenage dreams,
\nlistening to the rain. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"