Poetry and poësie

The awkward lover

My need to find you
is growing day by day.
I used finely-tuned metal-detectors
to search for you
in public places, in the pulsing silences
of libraries, in the miasma
of peak-hour traffic, in the jittery laissez-fair
of advertising offices, in the needle-point focus
of radio studios, in the aromatic embraces
of freshly-used bathrooms,
in the chaos of suburban kitchens;
I watched the indicators
of my metal-detectors,
but could not find you
in the gymnasiums blaring with pseudo-music,
dripping with sweat,
in the clamour of political meetings,
dissonant with disagreements,
in the musty majesty of concert halls,
in the packed-meat interiors of airliners;
I had no response from my metal-detectors
as I looked for you
in the familiar solitude of my bedroom,
in the sullen street outside my house,
under the patience of the newly green willows,
I have not found you,
and now, in desperation,
I think I must find
another instrument of love.