Seth Crook

 

 

 

Three Years

The night seems friendly,
almost kind.
Is it because you’re here,
I wonder,
standing on the edge of things,
your pretty toes
firmly present?

You do not speak.
But I do. I confess my love
over and over.
Everything I do confesses my love
over and over. But now
it doesn’t seem so tragic –
seems only to be the pattern:
the order of rectitude;
a set state of things,

sometimes as welcome
as a warm Hebridean night.
I am here; you
in apparition,
not as a ghost or critic,
but as a warmth that says nothing.
Though enough.

 

 

 

Seth Crook taught philosophy at various universities before moving to the Hebrides. He does not like cod philosophy in poetry, though he likes cod, poetry and philosophy. His poems recently appeared in such places as Gutter, New Writing Scotland, Poetry Scotland, Rialto, Magma, Envoi, Prole and Lunar Poetry. One was selected as one of the Best Scottish Poems of 2014.

Comments are closed.