Novelist, poet, biographer and teacher C J (Jonty) Driver was born and brought up in South Africa. Prohibited from returning to that country for a number of years, he spent much of his working life as an exile. As Driver says himself in ‘Patrick Duncan in Hospital’, “There are such things done by men to men / We can hardly bear to hear them again.” These are urgent, necessary poems, and hear them we must.
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The Eye of the Storm
Guilt is inelegant. How purely the light burns
At my bedside; someone outside would say
That room’s burning. It is only the way
Light beats at the curtains. My way of looking
Is slower: the light reads the words of a book
On my knees. I read the light. The light burns.