Philip Larkin - Observation

Only in books the flat and final happens, Only in dreams we meet and interlock, The hand impervious to nervous shock, The future proofed against our vain suspense; But since the tideline of the incoming past Is where we walk, and it is air we breathe, Remember then our only shape is death When mask and face are nailed apart at last. Range-finding laughter, and ambush of tears, Machine-gun practice…