Transport for LondonPoem for the day
Almost without Noticing
Almost without noticing,
without thinking, it seems,
you've arrived where you see far.
Thirty years back, more, the path vanishes,
thirty years ahead, more, the path vanishes:
and you're forced to sit down in your own shadow
to think.
Memory,
mother of truth and myth,
tell how the terrain divided the stream.
without thinking, it seems,
you've arrived where you see far.
Thirty years back, more, the path vanishes,
thirty years ahead, more, the path vanishes:
and you're forced to sit down in your own shadow
to think.
Memory,
mother of truth and myth,
tell how the terrain divided the stream.
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