The Hug by Thom Gunn: Poetry Analysis

This was the poem of the day for September 16th. Today's chosen poem was extremely long and overwhelming, so I decided not to tackle that for now. I apologize for not being as on top of these analyses as I would like.

The Hug

By Thom Gunn

It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined

    Half of the night with our old friend

        Who'd showed us in the end

    To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.

        Already I lay snug,

And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.

I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,

        Suddenly, from behind,

In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:

         Your instep to my heel,

     My shoulder-blades against your chest.

     It was not sex, but I could feel

     The whole strength of your body set,

             Or braced, to mine,

         And locking me to you

     As if we were still twenty-two

     When our grand passion had not yet

         Become familial.

     My quick sleep had deleted all

     Of intervening time and place.

         I only knew

The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.

--

Same poem with annotations and brief analysis:

The Hug

By Thom Gunn

It was your birthday type of gathering that should evoke warmth and contentment, we had drunk and dined a more intimate detail

    Half of the night with our old friend

        Who'd showed us in the end

    To a bed I reached in one drunk highlights the vulnerability of the narrator stride.

        Already I lay snug,

And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.

I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug, hugs don't usually break things

        Suddenly, from behind,

In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed: syntax variation to muddy train of thought

         Your instep to my heel,

     My shoulder-blades against your chest.

     It was not sex, but I could feel

     The whole strength of your body set,

             Or braced, to mine,

         And locking me to you essentially what a hug does, temporarily at least

     As if we were still twenty-two

     When our grand passion had not yet

         Become familial. key clue as to whom Gunn is writing this poem for

     My quick sleep had deleted all

     Of intervening time and place.

         I only knew

The stay of your secure firm dry not burning with passion? embrace.

The Hug is a intimate poem that I hypothesize to be something the poet Thom Gunn wrote for his wife. It is short and insightful, with a hint of nostalgia, as evidenced by the line "As if we were still twenty-two / When our grand passion had not yet / Become familial." It highlights the obvious intimacy between Gunn and his wife - they get drunk together and sleep together, yet is not explicit in any way.