A Place of Affection

By Henry Birnbaum

from the December 1961 issue of POETRY

Coming up the hill the hill,
I find the climb the height
ascends me. There in that airy
distance is my time located
in a familiar walk and regular
counted step to my place my place.

Sentiment and dung have nurtured
this decay of time which makes
my appearance daily and daily
near to calm and nearer to
natural event. I am here as by
consent of this time in this place.

In a moment of breathing, recall
those spires of Wordsworth, those
hills of affection which became
the wish and memoried wine of
others, who in the pause of some
breathless climb rested in joy.

And love is there, clothed in
apologies, but there in this setting
of buildings whose maturity has over-
come their impersonality and at their
entrances are the quiets after
the climb up the hill the hill.