Engelenburgerkade
The sun shone
down on Engelenburgerkade.
Clad in plus
fours I rode there on my bike.
A backlight
tinged with autumn
came over the
Catrijnepoort
and cast the
shadow of half-open shutters
onto the gable
of an old warehouse.
And suddenly
within myself lay stacked
a load of
happiness that scarcely could be borne
yet was so
light I wished to cycle on
through that
gateway and across the water
into the world
and never to return,
though my
home’s here if anywhere,
as nowhere else
would be my home.
And briefly all
the pain was gone
of being young,
of grappling hard with God,
with Calvin’s
hold still on
my throttled
throat.
That quiet sun,
that instant in my head
when life was
luminous soon passed.
Within the week
all was interred, more dead
than living, in
a sonnet firmly cast.
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