Wednesday, 6 June 2018


'un objet trouvé' from my father's notebook
(from Duino Elegies: First Elegy
by Ranier Maria Rilke, with thanks to 
Colm Niland for sourcing it)

Maybe what’s left for us is some
tree on a hillside we can look at
day after day, one of yesterday’s
streets, and the perverse affection of
a habit that liked us so much
   it never let go.

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