About the poet
Michael Longley (b.1939, Belfast) is a central figure in contemporary Irish poetry. A forceful...
Thirty-six years, to the day, after our wedding
When a cold figure-revealing wind blew against you
And lifted your veil, I find in its fat envelope
The six-shilling Vogue pattern for your bride's dress,
Complicated instructions for stitching bodice
And skirt, box pleats and hems, tissue-paper outlines,
Semblances of skin which I nervously unfold
And hold up in snow-light, for snow has been falling
On this windless day, and I glimpse your wedding dress
And white shoes outside in the transformed garden
Where the clothes-line and every twig have been covered.
from Snow Water (Jonathan Cape, 2004), copyright © Michael Longley 2004, used by permission of the author and the publisher