Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

by Derek Walcott

Comments (7)

A precise and yet divine narrative of such intimacy that it takes the reader into the event and all through the procedings - - and out at the far end of the scene we are as sated as the writer is......... that is the effect of any good poetry - - so top marks for this walk into a very private paradise........... from Fay.
so long... interlude and intercourse... euphemisms.. you in femisms... she... sheer silk fantarsy... PS.. no moss in sight? alas tis sad.. no foreign delight
Just what I needed today (and all week, come to think of it) : an emotional lift. To you, Herbert.
And after all that heavy petting, what did you do, H? : -) Sensual and romantic writing. I like this side of you. Warm regards, Gina.
mmmm......I don't think I can say more.
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