Late Love Poem by Jackie Kay

Late Love

Rating: 4.7

How they strut about, people in love,
How tall they grow, pleased with themselves,
Their hair, glossy, their skin shining.
They don't remember who they have been.

How filmic they are just for this time.
How important they've become - secret, above
The order of things, the dreary mundane.
Every church bell ringing, a fresh sign.

How dull the lot that are not in love.
Their clothes shabby, their skin lustreless;
How clueless they are, hair a mess; how they trudge
Up and down the streets in the rain,

remembering one kiss in a dark alley,
A touch in a changing room, if lucky, a lovely wait
For the phone to ring, maybe, baby.
The past with its rush of velvet, its secret hush

Already miles away, dimming now, in the late day.

Chris 05 November 2018

Touching poem, lovely work and a very talented writer, thanks for the read

3 2 Reply
Grace 06 November 2018

Perfectly wrote an amazing poet

3 2 Reply
Grace 06 November 2018

Very emotional and touching, favourite poem I have ever read

3 1 Reply
Grace 06 November 2018

Touching I wonder where the lateness comes in?

3 1 Reply
John Mckormak 06 November 2018

I am a very good writer and I am planning on starting to write poems, any tips?

2 1 Reply
MAHTAB BANGALEE 17 January 2023

Love is always alive; love is always present; love is always active; it can't be a being of late! inspired; nice to read

0 0 Reply
Mary Oxforth 16 January 2023

Very moving poem. People change, when they are in love. Brainwashed

0 0 Reply
Chinedu Dike 16 January 2023

Powerfully and movingly penned with conviction.....

0 0 Reply
Bruk Renwick 16 January 2023

Too many single people mistake infatuation for responsibility which is love. Infatuation only ever lasts a short time for everyone.

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Adam522 27 November 2020

The Makar is a communist, lesbian, black, woman because she's communist, lesbian, black and a woman. And before you say " Oh, don't be so cynical" ask yourself if it didn't come up in the board room. Nobody mentions that she's a black, LGBT, woman? Her poetry is gash, man. I'm a working class bloke, but I like poetry, and I've finished reading her stuff now, and I don't understand any of this. It's written for the intellectuals not the Plowman.

1 0 Reply
Jackie Kay

Jackie Kay

Edinburgh / Scotland
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