Three Poems
Simon Armitage, 22 July 1993
Wake. And in my head walk barefoot naked from the bed towards the day, then wait.
Hold. The dawn will crack its egg into the morning’s bowl and him on horseback, gold.
Me, I’m in the shed, I’m working on it: a plus b plus c, it’s you, him, me. It’s three.
Hell, this hole, this shack. The sun makes light of me behind my back....