(i know it's summer even though it's gloomy grey and seeping rain and the tall towers of colleges are closed to prevent anyone climbing above the clouds or committing suicide during exam term)
because my jumper smelled of smoke one morning
and nettle burns weave healing stings around my knuckles
because a spiderweb was stretching fresh across the path and sealed my lips as i was running
because we warmed the river's waters with our naked swimming bodies
and as i pull my ore through water, there is a rhythm - 8 rocking over, 8 flicking wrists, 6am starts - that i did not know before.
and then i go to learn my Homer hexametres between cups of tea and cups of Nestor and Mycenae.*
Sunday, May 17, 2009
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