What he can hear intrigues him
it sounds like a creation myth
with repetitive snatches of chant & antiphon,
voices raised tighter
he can’t see Annie so sits down at the farthest edge
a hand immediately seizes his
a body presses beside him, a woman’s body
on the other side his hand
comes down on someone’s thigh
withdrawing it quickly
he’s surprised when it’s put back in the same place

Seated companionably
albeit somewhat nervously
between the older man & younger woman
deductions from the respective textures
of their skin and hands

he begins to listen

The story, if it is a story
rather than an immense farrago
of confusing names & places

concerns some primal tragedy
some group of people were too arrogant
and were thus expelled from somewhere very nice
on the night of their departure
the wind & rain rise
& in the morning, from their ship
nothing can be seen but dark fogbanks
& arrows of descending flame
then the explosion, & the wave

As the voice speaks
it comes from an old, rather wizened man
in the centre of the circle
he has a feeling of double exposure
as if he can actually see the scenes being described

No comments: