Poem of the month: Cinematic by Peter McDonald

Too late, but not too late for me to hide
these sorry features further in the shade,
as huge projected faces loom and slide

away into their screen; I want to go
where images and ghosts stagger and slow,
past time that passes over or below

my heart shunting its blood too late; and as
the screenlight glances from her now, she is
beautiful like a star in the silent pictures,

all eyes, all eyes, and twice her lifesize tall,
falling away from me, into nightfall.
A shadow leaves its shadow on the wall.

• From The Gifts of Fortune by Peter McDonald, published by Carcanet (£11.99).