That Night by Isobel Montgomery Campbell Back to browse title
having woken after enough sleep
and finding it 2 am,
I thought of you until 3, the streetlight
bleaching the bedclothes.

Then, keeping you close as a whisper
I ran a bath in the dark:
deep, aromatic, warm as my bed,
lit a candle,

placed it by the water's edge
- entered and lay
drifting in the soft light,
golden, alone,

shed towering foam infernos
open, cloudless -
down to the glow of London's purple rim:
somewhere holding you in between.

 
Selected Poems by Ted Burford
   
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