The Miraculous Draft of Fishes.

The kettle had steamed up the kitchen windows
and I was reminded of the London Fogs
of long since departed damp Novembers
when the autumn reds and yellows softly faded
into greyness, just like my grandmother`s Victorian
prints of Raphael`s tapestries.

The whole of my childhood in one sepia moment
flickered deep in my mind, then retreated back
into the labyrinthine libraries
where chains attach my oldest memories in leather covers
to shelves of dusty books that are rarely touched
except, perhaps, when an unexpected event fidgets the keys.

Thus it was when the steam fogged up the kitchen windows
taking my thoughts back to those simpler days
when Raphael`s picture of The Miraculous Draft of Fishes
seemed to hint at an innocence that I cannot now retrieve.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
November 15th. - 16th. - 17th. 2016.