Seeing It First Hand

Forty years on,
and I still have my small little spoon
and my small little cup
from Trinity College, Cambridge.

A reunion last night;
Red wine, Escargots, and a Fillet of Lamb.
Thoughts of old friends, wives, and lovers.
Now in my study, at my small little table
with my small little cup,
I think back to Trinity.

It was the finest college
with libraries dating back a hundred years;
oak ladders on parquet tiles gleaming.
19th century volumes and out of print classics
on dusty bookshelves;
love letters carved into wood from a knife
or the key from a bicycle lock ;
Jimmy loves Kate, etched in eternity;
vandalism then, history now.
I remember days with Pete and Felix
and how we shared our lives
and lovers.
And those goddamn assignments;
working late into the night, eating whatever,
but mainly green mouldy penicillin bread;
the leftovers discarded in a bag
with all the other bin juice.
Cold nights, warm bagels, and cramming for exams.
And the life of the game; Rugby,
and rowing against Oxford; cold bitter mornings.

Yes, an evening of fond memories,
my friends long gone,
and a sad reunion at a table for one.