Thom Gunn

(29 August 1929 – 25 April 2004 / England)

The Hug - Poem by Thom Gunn

It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined
Half of the night with our old friend
Who'd showed us in the end
To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.
Already I lay snug,
And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.

I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,
Suddenly, from behind,
In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:
Your instep to my heel,
My shoulder-blades against your chest.
It was not sex, but I could feel
The whole strength of your body set,
Or braced, to mine,
And locking me to you
As if we were still twenty-two
When our grand passion had not yet
Become familial.
My quick sleep had deleted all
Of intervening time and place.
I only knew
The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.


Comments about The Hug by Thom Gunn

  • (4/17/2018 4:37:00 AM)


    Good flickering flow of lyrical vibes ebbing cresting spontaneously (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: sleep, passion, strength, friend, night, time



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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