………………………………………………………
As we walked more or less
aimlessly down-river
Time dissolved.
To my surprise
when I consulted maps
afterwards we’d covered
more than seven miles.
After we’d trudged
another three to Twyford
(from Sonning Mill)
on tarmac and paving stones
we both professed
tiredness and a longing
for the home-stairs climb.
With Henley well behind
I’d seen a tiny frog
wrestle though the grass
then a grebe dive underwater
and I began to count.
One hundred seconds later
I pronounced him Supergrebe!
Until you pointed out
he’s probably swum right
round the river bend
submerged and surfaced
in preferred and relative
privacy long ago. Of course,
only he would know.
And perhaps the river
running slow.
But not the road -
certainly not the road!
Unless it too could show
a similar contempt for time
in its restless contra-flow.
…Soho 90/09
