Time is upon us and so few days are ours entirely

in the slip of our mid-to-late-twenties. A hard sun

drives us to this hushed cool. St Giles is a very old

church. Here a string ensemble sometimes rehearse

and today rehearse. Strong breezes stirred these stones.

Three times they have built, rebuilt, partially rebuilt.

The church is quite old. The lead violin calls the players

to halt, to start from the middle: ‘Again, more drunk this time.’

We will listen and leave before the end, go and drink,

as so often, practising our giddy autumnal theme. That music

is quite old. When all our work is done, our harvests in

—we are quite old/quite young—we will be ready then.