A Dark Blue Day
I have to call it something like despair, Forgetting the name of somebody who came Across a room, and very suddenly Set herself down in an opposite chair And placed her two stockinged feet on the arm Of my own chair at twenty-five past three Thirty years ago! Because, I could tell she guessed No one else would be watching, the window only showed The rooftops and part of the sky, which we could see Had turned a dark blue, darker than the rest, And I missed the chance she offered .. . I recall it snowed, With the flakes failing to settle, just timidly Wafting over the brickwork of the grey Terraced streets which rose up slowly from the river Like an adjunct of its mist. —And I think I know That the town could be found once more, that dark blue day And those grey streets reappear, if I could ever Call up her name; which would persuade the snow To fall again, and the room to still be there With its window onto rooftops, and cloudy light Shining into a narrow space where two people meet Thirty years ago, each stuck in a deep armchair Pretending to guess if the snow might fall all night — And the man would settle for stroking the woman's feet.
Alan Brown john
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