Afternoon by MR Peacocke

The wool rolls down. The needles droop

A spider at the corner pane

Schemes for a pittance line by line.

The dull doves in the neighbouring wood

Call Could you do Do do You could.

A wakeless lull that's less than sleep

Brims in her eyes and palms and lap.

Something is finished. Nothing's done.

A lapse, a loss, a truce, a peace.

One lacewing trembles at the netted glass.

· From In Praise of Aunts by MR Peacocke (Peterloo Poets, £7.95). To order a copy for £7.95 with free UK p&p call Guardian book service on 0870 836 0875 or go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop


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Afternoon by MR Peacocke

This article appeared in the Guardian on Saturday May 10 2008 on p22 of the Features & reviews section. It was last updated at 00.15 on May 10 2008.

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