The goal I suppose is a steadied mind –
to replace with wood and stone
and insulated wire
what was contrived of flesh and bone,
blood and blood’s desire;

isn’t the final end to find
that haven where where you are
matters as much to me
as whether or not, on another block,
the wind’s now rousing a tree?

Send Letters To:

The Editor
London Review of Books,
28 Little Russell Street
London, WC1A 2HN

letters@lrb.co.uk

Please include name, address, and a telephone number.

Read anywhere with the London Review of Books app, available now from the App Store for Apple devices, Google Play for Android devices and Amazon for your Kindle Fire.

Sign up to our newsletter

For highlights from the latest issue, our archive and the blog, as well as news, events and exclusive promotions.

Newsletter Preferences