Once your parents hadn't even thought
of your name - then, for the first time
it glimmered between them,
kept airing itself amongst
the nubs of light in the lemon trees,
knowing nothing at all of England.
Everyone liked it - so you started to exist,
impatient to make a small flourish
in a long procession of namesakes.
Mistakenly, you tried to impersonate
all those who'd ever shared your name.
Of course, it would be of no use at all
to possess someone else's accent,
another's cough in the depth of night.
