Combine

There is a ripeness about the scent of sweat
Which suggests a physical task well done,
A night of loving, a day of sporting chances,
The completion of a longed-for repair, the
Freedom of a cross-country hike, a victory
Gained, a loss sustained and borne with
Patience. All these combine in old changing
Rooms and new, in bedrooms, on farms,
Across meadows, to make existence richer, to
Remind us of the elemental beings we are, of
The visceral nature of our real living, which
We too often forget.

There is war sweat, too, and blood, and
The stench of fear and death and hatred
And despair. That’s the living suppressed
By the powerful, thoughtless and cruel,
About which there is only poverty and
Paucity of soul.

R 26/10/2023 16:39