Poem by Philip Arthur Larkin

Coming

On longer evenings,
Light, chill and yellow,
Bathes the serene
Foreheads of houses.
A thrush sings,
Laurel-surrounded
In the deep bare garden,
Its fresh-peeled voice
Astonishing the brickwork.
It will be spring soon,
It will be spring soon —
And I, whose childhood
Is a forgotten boredom,
Feel like a child
Who comes on a scene
Of adult reconciling,
And can understand nothing
But the unusual laughter,
And starts to be happy.

1. The Mower
2. Absences
3. Breadfruit
4. Days
5. Homage to a Government

Charlotte Gilman (Stetson) Coming ("Because the time is ripe, the age is ready")

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