Girls on the Bridge
Derek Mahon Audible trout, Notional midges. Beds, Lamplight and crisp linen wait In the house there for the sedate Limbs and averted heads Of the girls out Late on the bridge. The dusty road that slopes Past is perhaps the high road south, A symbol of world-wondering youth, Of adolescent hopes And privileges; But stops to find The girls content to gaze At the unplumbed, reflective lake, Their plangent conversational quack Expressive of calm days And peace of mind. |
Grave daughters
Of time, you lightly toss Your hair as the long shadows grow And night begins to fall. Although Your laughter calls across The dark waters, A ghastly sun Watches in pale dismay. Oh, you may laugh, being as you are Fair sisters of the evening star, But wait-if not today A day will dawn When the bad dreams You scarcely know will scatter The punctual increment of your lives. The road resumes, and where it curves, A mile from where you chatter, Somebody screams... |
Derek Mahon Biography
|
Poem Analysis
|