Cambridge, 1913
                               by John

Why have we – you & I –
canoed up the river Cam today?

Just to pass through the orchard at Grantchester
and leap into Byron’s pool?

Just to hear you -- twenty-five and sulking -- let out a yelp
As we leave behind the moral sciences
and plunge into pure sensation?

But you, aspiring apostle, do not yelp.
You, unable to loose yourself
from the binding architectonics of your artistic conscience.

And when I suggest we might speak of pure reason and absolute logic,
you simply dunk your head under the water’s surface,
saying, “Whereof one cannot speak thereof one should be silent.”

Is this how we’ll be remembered, then?
You, below, the murky philosopher. 
And I, above, too analytic to submerge with you.