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More poems by Stevie SmithStevie Smith | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Stevie SmithBooks by Stevie Smith

I Remember

Stevie Smith

It was my bridal night I remember,
An old man of seventy-three
I lay with my young bride in my arms,
A girl with t.b.
It was wartime, and overhead
The Germans were making a particularly heavy raid on
     Hampstead.
What rendered the confusion worse, perversely
Our bombers had chosen that moment to set out for Germany.
Harry, do they ever collide?
I do not think it has ever happened,
Oh my bride, my bride.

Added: 5 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 25 Jun 2018 5:45 AM | Viewed: 7236 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1282/ | Viewed on 25 June 2018.
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