Friday Night At The Royal Station Hotel
Read 'Friday Night At The Royal Station Hotel' by 'Philip Larkin' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.
Friday Night At The Royal Station Hotel by Philip Larkin
Light spreads darkly downwards from the high
Clusters of lights over empty chairs
That face each other, coloured differently.
Through open doors, the dining-room declares
A larger loneliness of knives and glass
And silence laid like carpet. A porter reads
An unsold evening paper. Hours pass,
And all the salesmen have gone back to Leeds,
Leaving full ashtrays in the Conference Room.
In shoeless corridors, the lights burn. How
Isolated, like a fort, it is -
The headed paper, made for writing home
(If home existed) letters of exile: Now
Night comes on. Waves fold behind villages.
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
