Thom Gunn

 


The Man with Night Sweats

I wake up cold, I who 
Prospered through dreams of heat 
Wake to their residue, 
Sweat, and a clinging sheet. 

My flesh was its own shield: 
Where it was gashed, it healed. 

I grew as I explored 
The body I could trust 
Even while I adored 
The risk that made robust, 

A world of wonders in 
Each challenge to the skin. 

I cannot but be sorry 
The given shield was cracked, 
My mind reduced to hurry, 
My flesh reduced and wrecked. 

I have to change the bed, 
But catch myself instead 

Stopped upright where I am 
Hugging my body to me 
As if to shield it from 
The pains that will go through me, 

D. H. Lawrence

 from Pansies THE WHITE HORSE The youth walks up to the white horse, to put its halter on and the horse looks at him in silence. They are s...