September the first 1976, sitting, glancing to the left I caught a glimpse of you further away than before. "Look back" I said, "Look back and remember me. I can see you."
You had already sighted me that week for the first time, younger though and on a train. You passed us by at New Cross Gate, heading south. It was your wave that caught our eye. Your smokey voice condensed against the window...a word...and then you... and you had faded from view. We simply couldn't hold your image any longer.
So for you, my first word in return,
"Surd"
I carry that in my head and wait for the rest of the explanation to follow. Today I hold that thought in mind and can already hear the answer arriving yesterday, some point off, half-heard, misunderstood a mondergreen still forming along with other songs distorted.
"Lady Madonna, children at her feed" etc....
We took 'the' photograph today and posted the negative to myself next week in its paper bag, which will be lost and damaged only for me to find much later in our room, halfway between tomorrow and yesterday. You and I will place it in a box, still-unprinted, unique and as frail as -69 202 and Tycho Brahe's globe.
What was that you said?
"...Like me, you stood at the top of the slope in Innsbruke."
...and my answer is
"That like Franz, you clamour down-hill to meet me."
...and or, "for all my life I've been waiting for this moment to arrive."
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