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her voice was ever soft
July 17, 2005
ok, almost ever...
talking to gary o' shakespeare, he walks away, and suddenly, i'm back, many blocks from here, many years and many doubts from here, long ago.
16 years? 17?
a bench outside the capitol. i sat, she lay in my lap, we shared a blanket from my car, we read shakespeare aloud. it may have been king lear, or one of the histories, maybe one of the henry or richard plays. it was dark, cold, we had a blanket, the dome rose up behind us, pink granite uplit from below. we had finally taken the class we had missed, the class that wasn't, where we met.
a couple of kids, a couple of actors, doing voices, taking characters, all of whom seemed to be in love with each other, whether the lines themselves spoke of love, or of war, or of the ravings of poor fool tom.
we sat forever, in one night, speaking almost solely in words hundreds of years old, in the voices of others. it bleeds into tonight. i know the difference between the now and then. still, here, in july, on a hot and rainy night, i can close my eyes and i'm back there, in the cold, under the blanket, saying, in my false accent, "an angel is like you, kate."
Posted by Rob at July 17, 2005 11:15 PM