View & Port Meadow

The London Magazine - - CONTENTS - Michael O’Neill

It had a view, the room I was con­demned and lucky to in­habit for two weeks. I’d move closer, as my white cell count climbed, to the win­dow, read my Mil­ton – no idea why I brought him (cer­tainly be­mused the nurses) -– and stare with a tired long­ing at the sky.

Val­lom­brosa, its fallen leaves a truth too much for me, re­called our hon­ey­moon visit, the fic­tive sad­nesses of dis­tant youth no longer bear­able as I turned to watch a car cir­cle a round­about and come back down the road it had seemed to leave be­hind.

And yet, though some­times unin­spired, the view was still a view, spoke of a realm else­where in which light and sky might con­jure a new se­ries of man­i­fes­ta­tions, heal­ing spa­ces, a glimpse of chance es­cape from ill­ness, even a made-up Eden thronged by an­gels’ faces.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from UK

© PressReader. All rights reserved.