(one of my most vivid Raglan experiences was walking just before dawn into the castle and almost straight into a grey heron, the colour of the sky, sitting on the bridge)
“I forget” was the name of the heron who hovered over the
feast
But you, you remember
Arms and alarums
But you, you remember
Arms and alarums
fires and festivity
swords and celebration
a woman in white, weeping
A squire, in the corner, readying himself for glory
Shards of cannon
and a king, next a fountain, raising a cup to the dead.
If I asked you to speak would you tell me
of guards guarding fallen towers
a light at midnight, without a candle
children in sunshine dreaming of being knights
and mothers, dreaming of a moment without children?
would it be prophecy, poetry,
or simply nature’s truth?
“By all means rise at dawn,
and don your armour
dream of crowns
and count your marks after.
but leave me my realm, my grey twilight
my flight and my silence
my humble pursuit
and the man there, the one under the bridge,
dressed in his finery, serving princes
tell him I’m waiting
tell him to cook fish when I want my breakfast.”
swords and celebration
a woman in white, weeping
A squire, in the corner, readying himself for glory
Shards of cannon
and a king, next a fountain, raising a cup to the dead.
of guards guarding fallen towers
a light at midnight, without a candle
children in sunshine dreaming of being knights
and mothers, dreaming of a moment without children?
would it be prophecy, poetry,
or simply nature’s truth?
and don your armour
dream of crowns
and count your marks after.
but leave me my realm, my grey twilight
my flight and my silence
my humble pursuit
and the man there, the one under the bridge,
dressed in his finery, serving princes
tell him I’m waiting
tell him to cook fish when I want my breakfast.”
