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Experiment 6

Poem For A Castillian Gentleman

page 4

Poem For A Castillian Gentleman

He bore the brunt of summer unaware;
It stunned him almost, made him look away.
Ha blinked and blamed the dust, so premature,
As if it sought to seep behind his eyes -
The ochre-coloured dust of acrid autumn
That curled in spirals round the sterile square
Until it settled on the fountain-water
And rode the sunlight's gold expanding bangles
Concentrically jangling at the rim.

He was old and talked when no-one listened,
Recalling how the king at the Casino
Was gracious with all ladies, though austere.
He used to keep a book of old quotations,
Mostly from the bible or Cervantes,
Jotted down to look at now and then.

He still goes to that square to drink some coffee
And reckons it's the only medicine
To reach old bones beyond the scope of sun.
He writes from time to time; in this last letter
He says that summer has been late in starting,
Unlike the warmth of every other year.