user since
Thu Dec 28 2000 at 00:02:18 (13.8 years ago )
last seen
Sun Sep 9 2007 at 05:35:55 (7.1 years ago )
number of write-ups
15 - View onlyeman's writeups (feed)
level / experience
1 (Novice) / 626
mission drive within everything
That I would be good
specialties
sleeping well.
school/company
no
motto
If it moves, hit it with a stick.
most recent writeup
Flesh and Blood
Send private message to onlyeman

Ambulances - Philip Larkin

Closed like confessionals, they thread
Loud noons of cities, giving back
None of the glances they absorb.
Light glossy grey, arms on a plaque,
They come to rest at any kerb:
All streets in time are visited.

Then strewn on steps or road,
Or women coming from the shops
Past smells of different dinners, see
A wild white face that overtops
Red stretcher-blankets momently
As it is carried in and stowed.

And sense the solving emptiness
That lies just under all we do,
And for a second get it whole,
SO permanent and blank and true.
The fastened doors recede. Poor soul,
They whisper at their own distress;

For borne away in deadened air
May go the sudden shut of loss
Round something nearly at an end,
And what cohered in it across
The years, the unique random blend
Of families and fashions, there

At last begin to loosen. Far
From the exchange of love to lie
Unreachable inside a room
The traffic parts to let go by
Brings closer what is left to come,
And dulls to distance all we are.