venetian interlude
" it is possible , possible , possible . It must be possible . It must be that in time the real will from its crude compoundings come ..."
Wallace Stevens : Note Towards a Supreme Fiction I
today a mood has taken hold I cannot say why especially now I feel a need to mull
perhaps the gold lettering along the spine of the book ( the one with a deep burgandy cloth-bound cover ) glistening on the shelf beside me
has put the notion inside my head or the venetian scene you are painting re-imagining the city and the time we both have loved
at any rate memories drift like the smoke from the gorse fire our neighbour farmer has set
to the attentive eye in the drifts it is possible perhaps to see there is a discernable pattern it moves like eddies in a restless stream
it is memory seeking what it cannot hold desire tracing along the shadows of the image I have of you intricate blendings of the light a sfumato of the mind
and memories come and go capricious as Irish weather sometimes clear as wren-song