Looking Back - Poem by Sally Evans
It was a smart and pretty room,
all new, Welsh woollen honeycomb
across the narrow student's bed -
what I learnt there was never said.
The desk was shining, wide and empty
for me to pour out thoughts in plenty -
dull essays for my college marks
and poems from my secret heart.
I never took my poems to town
to the Creative Tutor's room -
poems that were awkward, but much sweeter
for lack of a Creative Tutor.
Instead I typed and sent my lines
to distant London magazines,
like a Lady of the Town
throwing her shining violets down
to sheer neglect and crowded shelf.
Now I'm an editor myself,
I wish that one had taken pity
on that lost girl in a lost city.
I remembered this last night
when sleep put out its soothing light,
and I roamed round maturer rooms
composing songs - and through the gloom
Poetry glimmered just the same
through all the changes since I came -
no fairer, costlier or worse
for shoals of schools for teaching verse.
Comments about Looking Back by Sally Evans
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.