Notes from Nowhere

miðvikudagur, ágúst 31, 2005

To Greenwich

Gatwick airport, East Croydon, London Bridge, The City - I know these lines like my shoelaces. But today is the hottest until next year, I'm told, and London seems to ache like she's been at sport, and she has. This is the time of cricket and walks by the river and gently shortening days.
Oh, the times of our lives.

It is still strange boarding trains and going about life these days since the bombs, but if I seem nostalgic its because these two atmospheres, the nameless anxiety and the pride stirring are well known mental paths from my youth, like the days of David Gower and the Superpowers.

Is it me, or is this one of the times that all the thousand pretty ones come out before their winter retreat? But these days I'm happy to celebrate with words, for today I meet my sweetheart, after a long year, in the wilderness, in the centre of time. The sea, my maritime love; the wide river, and a picnic for two. I'll let you know how it goes...


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