They say eyes clear with age,
As dew clarifies air
To sharpen evenings,
As if time put an edge
Round the last shape of things
To show them there;
The many-levelled trees,
The long soft tides of grass
Wrinkling away the gold
Wind-ridden waves- all these,
They say, come back to focus
As we grow old.
(Philip Larkin)
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Based on Topics: Nature Poems, Gold Poems, Age PoemsBased on Keywords: sharpen, wrinkling, clarifies, wind-ridden