Season’s cheer, greetings all!
I haven’t gone for a winter poem this time, I’ve gone for an excellent, and definitely somewhat chill-inducing, poem by Australian poet Les Murray. The poem is called ‘Vertigo’ and addresses old age. This is the second verse:
When, any time after sixty,
or any time before, you stumble
over two stairs and club your forehead
among rake or hoe, brick or fuel-tin,
that’s time to call the purveyor
of steel pipe and indoor railings
and soon you’ll be gasping up landings
having left your balance in the car
from which please God you’ll never see
the launchway of tyres off a brink.
Later comes the sunny day when
street detail gets whitened to mauveand people hurry you, or wait, quiet.
There now, that’s cheered everyone up, hasn’t it?
