Reversing the Numbness

Sunday, April 8, 2007

Nobody Comes

I recently stumbled onto this poem by Thomas Hardy. The second stanza is intensely sad to me, but I really love the way it reads, so I thought I'd post it here.

Nobody Comes

TREE-LEAVES labour up and down,
And through them the fainting light
Succumbs to the crawl of night.
Outside in the road the telegraph wire
To the town from the darkening land
Intones to travelers like a spectral lyre
Swept by a spectral hand.

A car comes up, with lamps full-glare,
That flash upon a tree:
It has nothing to do with me,
And whangs along in a world of its own,
Leaving a blacker air;
And mute by the gate I stand again alone,
And nobody pulls up there.
— 9 October 1924


Mom! Toilets blogged! said...

Even he, who is pure in heart
Can become a wolf
When the wolf bane blooms
And the autumn moon is brigt

Mom, some time after dinner, 07

josh williams said...

Or the original Wolfman movie. Show Mr Hardy some respect toilets. Reread the poem and then take a long pull off your bottle of Blue Goodness as an act of pennance.