My love, while we talked
They removed the roof.  Then
They started on the walls,
Panes of glass uprooting
From timber, like teeth.
But you spoke calmly on,
Your example of courtesy
Compelling me to reply.
When we reached the last
Syllable, nearly accepting
Our positions, I saw that
The floorboards were gone:
It was clay we stood upon.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 496 times | Comments (0)

Poet: John Montague
Poem: Uprooting
Volume: About Love
Year: Published/Written in 1993
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