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Time on Water by Robert Gibbons




Friday


Wondered what dream might arrive on a day that just happens to fall on the Ides. I'm walking down a narrow lane, small shops, market stalls on either side. I'm so curious about a word that at too far a distance from the woman up ahead I shout it out, “Aspirant, aspirant?” I catch up to her as she crosses the street & joins her twin. Formally I ask, “Could you tell me how to spell 'aspirant,' & what it means?” To which she simply winces. It's true one had better keep one's ambition in check. There have been days on the Ides when I've avoided the world altogether, any contact with what might resemble the Forum. I'll be with nature today, which doesn't betray, & granted, go to work as usual, but I won't be striving after anything more than language, certainly not honors or high position.


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