On leaving the exhibition

I strode up the Greestone steps

In the pouring rain

At the top I caught my breath

In the Cathedral Garden

I thought of the depth

And was perplexed

As before

On another ceremonious occasion

Opening drawers

Watching butterflies take to the sky

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Span

Ninety-four years

I will check the encyclopaedias

Close to tears

It's still too long a lifetime

To show the fears

Far too long a lifetime

But to falsify

To become ‘a treasure my dears’

Is ever too long a lifetime

Ninety-four years

A few may still survive

But you (in 1915)

You were taken

A short lived

But truthful long lifetime

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From age is beauty

Twice I misspell your name

Twice your name

From two new people

The shout for fame

Twice the game

To play alongside Picasso

From Poland she came

Now twice

Turns you into two lifetimes

Did you ever marry

Twice the Z

Misses its turn

I hear you learnt from Rodin 

How movement was earned

Two views - neither spurned

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Unsettled

Agitated, restless

Without ease or grace or space

No capture or essence; out of sorts

Unworthy, shallow in your shadow

Slow down, breathe steady

Past artefacts in clear sealed cases

All else is laid to rest; fails the test

All else is for the imagination

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Do it your way if you must

See; we see your contemporaries

We saw you otherwise, you died at twenty-three

Me, I am here now

I am worldly wise, I lied at twenty-three

See me; I saw it otherwise

The taste leaves no memory, here approaching seventy-three

Me see; I saw it otherwise 

Hope would not let me be, but to talk; talk could set me free

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