At Evening

Let me now sleep, let me not think, let me
Not ache with inconsistent tenderness.
It was untenable delight; we are free--
Separate, equal--and if loverless,
Love consumes time which is more dear than love,
More unreplicable. With everything
Thus posited, the choice was clear enough
And daylight ratified our reckoning.

Now only movement marks the birds from the pines;
Now it's dark; the blinded stars appear;
I am alone, you cannot read these lines
Who are with me when no one else is here,
Who are with me and cannot hear my voice
And take my hand and abrogate the choice.

by Vikram Seth

Comments (6)

Love it It is not too short I couldn't have written this poem Short as it is.
it is so short nobody likes it just to short
I remember as a kid 4 girls pretending to go swimming in a big cast iron tub
Poem slain my james poemslayer coming in with that slaining poem action shel silverstein slithering up to the poem like a truck -james poemslayer Poem slayuing level = 2
funny and creative i like it!
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