The Month of February
It is a cold day the new sun is no match against the north/westerly,
even the carob tree, with its thick evergreen leaves, looks cold today.
I see a track has been made on the vale’s easterly slope, all the way
to the top. I may be able to drive up there on my motorbike, just to
see what’s on the other side. Perhaps a plateau where tiny humans
dressed in rabbit fur, especially today, undiscovered live. And I will go
down in history as the man who saw them first, before missionaries,
traders and tourists swamp the plane, and the pygmies die from
the common cold and Christendom. Stanly and Livingstone did their
discoveries where the sun shines hot, I will do mine facing bitter chill.
It is overcast now and if it rains my bike will slide on the track. I’ll wait
for a day when the wind is wistful for Siberia and returns home.