WE MET AT THE END OF THE PARTY

 

We met at the end of the party

When most of the drinks were dead

And all the glasses dirty:

"Have this that's left," you said.

 

We walked through the last of summer,

When shadows reached long and blue

Across days that were growing shorter:

You said: "There's autumn too."

 

Always for you what's finished

Is nothing, and what survives

Cancels the failed, the famished,

As if we had fresh lives

 

From that night on, and just living

Could make me unaware

Of June, and the guests arriving,

And I not there.

 

-Philip Larkin