And as the wind blew past me concepts that connected
the pages of a piece of work in progress – Orion.
Archer, symbol, comrade. Echoes of summer nights
to come, he aims and shoots – I fall. The heat, my body...
'The boiler is fixed!', thus spake the plumber. 'Mate, the pump
was fully broken – the pump is like a heart. That freezing room?
It’s boiling now'. Thus spake – and as I cross this passageway,
so tight from night and branches, I feel the heart of things,
this city’s heart: after a winter hiatus, it’s back to pumping
memories, from last year’s spring, and years before,
and years to come, abroad, apart. It’s pumping.