THE YOUNG LOVERS ON WHIT SUNDAY


          Next morning, the young lovers,
          pleased with themselves, rise
          late, wander with arms around
          each other's waists, and lightly kissing
          in the streets of the Old Town.
          Or with indissolubly linked hands
          — elephants ambling trunk to tail —
          stop at every window in the Mall
          then go on strolling aimlessly,
          making all part before them.

          How long will it last,
          this paltry joy that seems to them
          so earth-shaking?
          — I give them three weeks.


           © James Kirkup, 2008




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