Oxford Unions

I have not been feeling well over the last few days. Today has been the toughest, so I am going to take the easy way out tonight and share a poem that I wrote five years ago, on last day I was at The Oxford Union at Oxford University. As I watched the workmen repair the path, I realized that an experience like the one I had just experienced over the last few days, are few and far between.

Oxford Union
Christopher Bogart

They’re paving the paving stones again today.

These workmen, who seemed to have appeared
From nowhere,
Have been chipping away -
Measuring,
Moving,
Replacing
These ancient stones
With new ancient stones
In a timeless race
To contain time.

My time is running out.

As I sit here
On well-worn wood,
Facing the overgrown gardens that hug close
To the stone that surrounds me,
I wonder what these workmen think
Of me.

“There’s another one.” One will say.
“I wonder how long he’ll be sitting there.”
The other will reply, “He’ll be gone soon.
Just like the rest.”

As they look up from the stones
To me and smile,
Ever so politely,
I want to think
I will be here
Forever…
Or at least until tomorrow,
To walk on the stones that they’re replacing.

How many have sat where I sit now,
Walked into this courtyard,
Wearing the well-worn stones,
Smooth?

Where are they now?

They have been replaced, I think,
As the stones on which they trod
Have been replaced,
With different stones.

The workmen know.
They will return to their job tomorrow.

By then…
I will be gone.