MORNING by morning I look up at the twin towers, And the long tunnel of glass and iron between. When I was small I thought of heaven as glass, With bands playing all day, all hours, And amber sands disparted over the sheen: Above, a roof of glass, Without, cloud, sky and grass. "Parish of Lambeth," then, holds all of heaven, Norwood trees are the trees Of Judas, Absalom and Eve. Iron-voiced cars down the steep hill Groan with the damned that heave Headlong to suburbs of the south. But heaven is empty now, the bands Play to forlorn long aisles; St. Peter nods at stiff turnstiles; My steps upon the sands Wake noises that might shatter the glass: And all that glittering tunnel would fall, And the twin towers so tall, If I but clapped my hands. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MERLIN'S PROPHESY by WILLIAM BLAKE GOD'S WAY by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR LIBERTY FOR ALL by WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON ARMS AND THE BOY by WILFRED OWEN TO JANE: THE RECOLLECTION by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY |