While listening to the song, Walking in the Air , by Chloe Agnew and reading Proust’s Swann’s Way a “scene” with “imaginary details” came like a light.
I look up
top of the tree
I imagine
the precise dive
the swift catch
the elegant rise
the fish clasped tight
between the claws.
“If you are a man
then feel my misery.”
I close my eyes
thinking of Faust
and hear other voices:
“I only beg you now
to follow me.”
“Out there?
Is the world
deserts and forests
sorrows and dreams.
“Thine am I, Father.
Rescue me.”
Voices fade away
and shadows.
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