Love is talent, the world love's metaphor.
Aflame, October's leaves adore the wind,
its urgent breath, whirl to their own death.
Not here, you're everywhere.
The evening sky
worships the ground, bears down, the land
yearns back in darkening hills. The night
is empathy, stars in its eyes for tears. Not here,
you're where I stand, hearing the sea, crazy
for the shore, seeing the moon ache and fret
for the earth. When morning comes, the sun, ardent,
covers the trees in gold, you walk
out of the season, out of the light love reasons.
From Rapture (Picador, 2005), © Carol Ann Duffy 2005, used by permission of the author and the publisher.