Poem of the Month

The Present

For the present there is just one moon,
though every level pond gives back another.

But the bright disc shining in the black lagoon,
perceived by astrophysicist and lover,

is milliseconds old. And even that light’s
seven minutes older than its source.

And the stars we think we see on moonless nights
are long extinguished. And, of course,

this very moment, as you read this line,
is literally gone before you know it.

Forget the here-and-now. We have no time
but this device of wantonness and wit.

Make me this present then: your hand in mine,
and we’ll live out our lives in it.

David Underdown, who selects our poems, adds this note.

This poem is taken from Michael Donaghy’s ‘Dances Learned Last Night: Selected Poems 1975 – 1995’ published by Picador. Donaghy was a musician and poet of Irish extraction who grew up in New York but made his home in London in the 1980s. He was an admirer of the metaphysical poets, and their influence can be seen in this sonnet with its lively puns and scientific allusions. Donaghy was only fifty when he died suddenly of a brain haemorrhage in 2004.