I love Philip Larkin.
And this poem is called, "After Reading Larkin's High Windows."
"I'm also in the dark about honeycreepers and luminescence
in general and that first moment a woman breathed into my ear.
I've been having a hard time with color separation
and the way that marbles clink off of one another
when you shake them.
I've been looking at the way my fingers interlock.
I've been considering how tired I get at 7 o'clock
in the evening.
Do you remember teaching me the Russian words for lounge chair
and biscuit cutter and luggage van?
I'm trying to tell you not to worry,
but I'm worried about how that might sound
to you what with the trucks coming in
and the birds swooping and it already being 20 years
down the road and a Tuesday and April."