4. THE VINEYARD

The dewy paths along the Thames

Unwillingly standing by Virginia.

The intermittent aftertaste of carrot cake,

And all the while David Copperfield,

Staring back, motionless.

 

The fluttering squirrel by the window

Unaware of the passage, full of grey stones,

Of the smell of thick white bread

And of the phone booth

Anchoring, playfully, infant depictions.

 

The legless man at the station,

Quiet, undemanding,

Surrounded by countless eyes that were different, so different.

And by those ladies that minded their own business,

Unbothered by the sky.

 

And suddenly, I… I guess, reflected in occasional glimpses,

Acknowledging I was there too,

Summoned for something I was unfit for…

For something that was expected of me?

Though I keep expecting… nothing is.