Premiere
The searchlights ask the stars nothing
Among them going,
Tell them nothing, their sign of show
Being for more particular sight below.
Show, show, say they to the sight
Through the lamplight,
Raying cloud, cloud, and cloud to wake and start
The after-dinner heart.
There is stir in the driveways and rustle of departing,
With the hearts starting,
And sight can almost see, ear hear, at the lights’ core
Gathering, shining, what the lights are searching for.
From Collected Poems, 1930–83. Copyright © 1983 by Josephine Miles. Used with permission of the University of Illinois Press.