You did not Go Gentle
(for Dylan Thomas, 1914-53)
You did not go gentle -
green and dying,
you sang in your chains,
and from our dark shores
we thought we heard the sea,
hear it now
on this good night’s journey,
where each fixed mile
mocks our pretence of progress -
dead leaves
flung across the windscreen,
lights blurred
past the rinsing glass,
counting down
to the same blank end.
You did not go gentle -
green and dying,
you sang in your chains;
and from that shadow thronged loft,
against each spent lie,
each terror’s continual cry -
you sing for us.
Page(s) 80
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