Dear Bryan Wynter

By W. S. Graham

1

This is only a note

To say how sorry I am

You died. You will realize

What a position it puts

Me in. I couldn’t really

Have died for you if so

I were inclined. The carn

Foxglove here on the wall

Outside your first house

Leans with me standing

In the Zennor wind.

Anyhow how are things?

Are you still somewhere

With your long legs

And twitching smile under

Your blue hat walking

Across a place? Or am

I greedy to make you up

Again out of memory?

Are you there at all?

I would like to think

You were all right

And not worried about

Monica and the children

And not unhappy or bored.

2

Speaking to you and not

Knowing if you are there

Is not too difficult.

My words are used to that.

Do you want anything?

Where shall I send something?

Rice-wine, meanders, paintings

By your contemporaries?

Or shall I send a kind

Of news of no time

Leaning against the wall

Outside your old house.

The house and the whole moor

Is flying in the mist.

3

I am up. I’ve washed

The front of my face

And here I stand looking

Out over the top

Half of my bedroom window.

There almost as far

As I can see I see

St Buryan’s church tower.

An inch to the left, behind

That dark rise of woods,

Is where you used to lurk.

4

This is only a note

To say I am aware

You are not here. I find

It difficult to go

Beside Housman’s star

Lit fences without you.

And nobody will laugh

At my jokes like you.

5

Bryan, I would be obliged

If you would scout things out

For me. Although I am not

Just ready to start out.

I am trying to be better,

Which will make you smile

Under your blue hat.

I know I make a symbol

Of the foxglove on the wall.

It is because it knows you.

Copyright Credit: W. S. Graham, “Dear Bryan Wynter” from Selected Poems. Copyright © 1980 by W. S. Graham. Reprinted by permission of The Estate of W.S. Graham.

Source: Selected Poems (Ecco Press, 1980)