16 AUGUST 1963, Page 20

Hardly Anything Bears Watching

Hardly anything bears watching. Bricks and stone Have lost their intense surprise.' For years I kept my trust in things.

Even beyond the last parishes Fringed with refuse, Hills drown beneath the surveyor's rod. They too lie perfectly numb.

The old parabolas of socialism, Spirals of love, Make hope the habitat of the soul. But hope's not native to the blood.

No comfort from the boy who draws Upon my memory of bombs. The man recalls Brave days on a far-off sea.

Picture after picture fails.

When 1 was young.

The pavement kerbs were made of stone, A substance like my finger-nails.

It is not like that any more. I do not see

The essential life of inorganic things Humanity has covered' all.

MAIRI MCINNES