For hours - so it seemed - the slow June dusk wore on . . .

The Spectator has over the past year or two revived its occasional offerings of poetry. Certainly in the past year their selections seem to be getting more and more engaging in a way that most forums of contemporary poetry are not. Unfortunately their quirky site does not contain the poems which are in the hardcopy magazine.

I especially like Home by Colin Falck in the January 30, 2010 edition. The first stanza:

'Why aren't you in school then?' they'd ask - as we ran to play,
or went roller-skating, or collected caterpillars - or got started in
on the summer's work of dams, or of blowing up wasps' nests
(some carbide, some water - throw a match, get out of the way)
or of building Messerschmidts. Our exams were done. It was June.
There were things we needed to do, and it was time to begin.