(Look down to see them in the midst of a long embrace in the sun, which she breaks off, not with disinterest but the suddenness of passion, the awkward human mating dance.)
A barge makes its slow turn into the strait to the bridge. What am I looking for here at the river? Peace with myself? some sense of how to spend the hours well, out of rhythm with the world which wraps round me like the bend does the river?