Van Mildert’s Portrait

At first I thought of it as a week of my life

Without a single memory 

I sat in the cathedral and pondered

All those years ago did I not go on to the rooftop

Was it not possible back then to look down on the prison

Are these simply a nowadays imagination

I am more certain

Of a formidable figure

Whose portrait hung high

In the university halls

He was overlooking

Indeed overpowering the diners

As they sat in the refectory

And stumbled through lunch

We remained strangers one and all

They left my life, without a single memory


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