early on a September Sunday,
a lone swan gliding across the river
as hail bounces from a troubled sky
producing a plethora of jumping pools
in water Shakespeare knew well.
The moored barges ever so gently sway
as a cool wind blows on this autumn day.
I reach the Gower Memorial
with Shakespeare's famous figures:
Lady Macbeth and her wild frightening eyes,
Falstaff and Prince Hal with spider web,
its owner oblivious to literature.
I sit down and reflect on the stone wall,
into the pages of his plays I fall:
"Divinity of hell," I imagine Iago
and the blood on the hands of Macbeth
as flowers wave and I wonder
if the great man's ghost wanders here
as famous lines formed in his agile mind.
The sun breaks through, stars fall in the river
and I say goodbye to Lady Macbeth
whose statue will stand long after my death.