The poem “Dockery and Son” poignantly captures how a seemingly innocuous comment can ignite a profound introspection about one's life choices. The catalyst is a remark from the Dean regarding a former schoolmate now having a son at their alma mater. This simple observation propels the speaker into a deep reflection on the perceived emptiness and unlived aspects of his own life.

Such contemplation often emerges from offhand comments or casual observations, stirring thoughts that otherwise remain dormant. As a student, the speaker had been adventurous, frequently finding himself in the Dean's office, "half-tight" from the previous night's revelries. However, standing in a moment of self-reflection, he is confronted not by his past actions but by the choices he didn’t make. Dockery, in this narrative, remains an almost mythical figure—vague and distant, with the speaker barely able to recall if Dockery was “that withdrawn // High-collared public-schoolboy, sharing rooms / With Cartwright who was killed.” The memory of the past is more vivid in loss than in life.

The speaker's admission that having "no son, no wife, / No house or land still seemed quite natural," holds an almost stoic acceptance of his life path. Yet, this acceptance is challenged by the realization that his juniors have acquired these hallmarks of conventional success, highlighting the passage of time and the stark contrast in their life trajectories. It is not envy that grips the speaker; he does not covet Dockery’s life or family. Instead, he is struck by the absence of anything in his own life that might inspire the envy of others. He has, by his own admission, diverged significantly from the paths trodden by his peers.

Initially, the speaker reflects on Dockery, contemplating whether he meticulously planned his life, discerning his desires and possessing the capability to achieve them. However, this thought is quickly discarded, replaced by the notion that life is governed by certain "Innate assumptions." These assumptions remain unquestioned until hindsight reveals them as "sand-clouds, thick and close," shaping Dockery's life with a son and leaving the speaker with nothing. This fatalistic perspective bears resemblance to the work of Thomas Hardy, acknowledging the inexplicable forces at play in life.

The essence of these forces, described as "something hidden from us," eludes precise definition, even for Philip Larkin. It might be a justification for inaction or an acknowledgment of life's unpredictable course. Larkin articulates a view of existence as "first boredom, then fear," followed by an admission that life continues, regardless of our engagement, leaving behind choices made by this mysterious force. This force might be destined or perhaps mere biology, but its nature remains elusive—a life force that may not inherently affirm life.

Amidst this meditation, the image of a "strong// Unhindered moon" appears, mirrored by "Joining and parting lines." This imagery lends form to the speaker's reflections, yet it remains as enigmatic as the forces contemplated. The moon's presence suggests a guiding light, a constant amidst life's unpredictability, yet it too is unknowable, highlighting the limits of human understanding when confronted with fate and the unseen workings of life.