The Landing

By J. D. McClatchy b. 1945

Through the blinds, it must have been the searchlight I saw

That silvered the woodwork. Step by step, its shadow was

Measuring out tonight. The climb itself has become a cloud

That thickens with the effort. I’d look up if I could.

Three lines erased in the address book. The thumbed pages

Of those last weeks through which the half lit end still gapes,

Unwritten. And what I miss goes without saying. Has

The explanation even there been brief as a flame and its ash?

I speak to the air that takes these things finally as its own.

Tell me who that is beyond the stairwell’s next turning now.

Source: The Rest of the Way (1990)

Biography

J.D. McClatchy’s poetry is marked by formal adeptness, lyrical control and a wide range of influences—including classical literature, music, and opera. Praised for their polished, erudite surfaces as well as the depths of thought, philosophy, and feeling beneath the facade, McClatchy treats subjects as diverse as Japanese history, the body, and his own autobiography. Often depicting the unsettling and disturbing realities that . . .

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