I am the two-headed anniversary god,
Lord of the Lupercal and the Letts diary.
I have a head for figures.
My clocks are the moon and sun,
My almanac the zodiac. The ticktock seasons,
The hushabye seas are under my thumb.
From All Saints to All Souls I celebrate
The ‘da capo’ year. My emblems are albums,
The bride’s mother’s orchid corsage, the dark cortege.
Master of the silent passacaglia
Of the future, I observe the dancers,
But never teach them the step.
I am the birthday prescience
Who knows the obituary, the tombstone’s arithmetic.
Not telling is my present.
I monitor love through its mutations
From paper to ruby. I am archivist
Of the last divorce and the first kiss.
I am director of the forgotten fiesta.
I know why men at Bacup black their faces;
Who horned at Abbots Bromley tread the mazes.
I am the future’s overseer, the past’s master.
See all, know all, speak not.
I am the two-faced god.
~ U. A. Fanthorpe ~