Graeme Hetherington: Two Poems

What’s in a Name?

(Courting poem for G)

Disturbed, I cast you, just because

You were called “Archer”, in the role

Of huntress-goddess Artemis,

Avenger of young innocents,

Such as my sister was, whom I’d

Harmed with my love. And then you wed

And became “Unicombe” that trans­-

Lates loosely from Old English as

“A valley sweet as honeycomb”.

It augurs well for us should you

Decide to keep it on now we’ve

Been freed by death to meet and feel

As though fifty plus years apart

Were no longer than arrows take

From Cupid’s bow to reach the heart,

My madness in seeing you as

Nemesis for a childhood sin

Caused and cured by the power of names.

Graeme Hetherington

The bell that woke us to the dark

The bell that woke us to the dark

Rang warmer than cold winter showers

Timed for ten seconds more or less

By prefects as their mood inclined.

Lounging about in dressing gowns

Monogrammed with capitals E

And H for Eton–Harrow twined,

They flicked erections out with towels

And stung bums as they herded us

To wait in line. Thin-limbed and cropped

As close as sheep, down stiffening on

Pimpled faces, we stood stripped bare

And hugged ourselves, bracing for shock,

The pong of kitchen gas mixed with

Bad bathroom air helping us take

The purifying plunge, breath held.

Graeme Hetherington