Martin Robertson

Now and Then

[Released from cloud the low sun at my back]

Released from cloud the low sun at my back

brightens suddenly

across the greenness of the water-meadow

a grey steeple against a blue-black

cloud mounting blue sky.

I look through my own eyes and others too,

the dead who see nothing, perhaps another

who reads this after

I’m dead, but especially yours.  You

must see all I see.