#WorldPoetryDay: ‘Black March’, by Stevie Smith

My third choice for World Poetry Day is by Stevie Smith and is called  Black March.

I have a friend
At the end
Of the world.
His name is a breath

Of fresh air.
He is dressed in
Grey chiffon. At least
I think it is chiffon.
It has a
Peculiar look, like smoke.

It wraps him round
It blows out of place
It conceals him
I have not seen his face.

But I have seen his eyes, they are
As pretty and bright
As raindrops on black twigs
In March, and heard him say:

I am a breath
Of fresh air for you, a change
By and by.

Black March I call him
Because of his eyes
Being like March raindrops
On black twigs.

(Such a pretty time when the sky
Behind black twigs can be seen
Stretched out in one
Uninterrupted
Cambridge blue as cold as snow.)

But this friend
Whatever new names I give him
Is an old friend. He says:

Whatever names you give me
I am
A breath of fresh air,
A change for you.

by Stevie Smith (1902-1971)

 

One Response to “#WorldPoetryDay: ‘Black March’, by Stevie Smith”

  1. brissioni Says:

    Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote
    The droghte of Marche had perced to the roote,
    And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
    Of which vertu engendered is the flour;
    Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
    Inspired hath in every hold and heeth
    The tendre croppes, and the Yonge sonne
    Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y ronne,
    And smale fowles maken melodye
    Prologue to the Canterbury Tales

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