MEMENTO MORI

Illuminated by the high, hot sun
Of the Algarve, she pauses
At the walled foot of the hill,
Framed by the arched gateway
To the old cathedral town of Faro,
From which she has come.
She holds my eye calmly whilst
Adjusting the cowl of her black robe
With her one good hand,
But not, I think, to hide the leprosy.
Perhaps she has become indifferent
To the appalled expressions
On ordinary faces
Which only distort temporarily.
Then she turns away the ghost
Of what was once, quite clearly,
A handsome, proud face and slowly,
But with a straight back and a clear eye,
She moves over the cobbles,
A ruined hand hanging at her side,
And crosses the busy road
Into the city beyond the old town,
As if from another age,
But looking life full in the face.


* * * *


We have climbed to the top
Of the medieval cathedral,
The sunlight casting abstract
Reflections from the stained glass
On its cold, silent stones,
And we have wandered the walls,
Taking in the estuary views
With our eyes and cameras.
Then, later, on a hill in the city,
We find a plaza with a church
At each end, amidst noisy streets,
Where we stand now in sepia light,
Inside an arched and vaulted room
Across a courtyard in the grander
Of the churches, the Igreja De Carmo.
This is the Bone Chapel,
Its altar, walls and ceiling made entirely –
Save for the mirror above the altar –
From the bones and skulls of ancient monks.
Its barred windows are reflected
Perfectly in brilliant shadows on the ground.
I gaze in the glass and around and around,
With death looking me full in the face.


(2010)

We were on a summer holiday in Albufeira in Portugal and had taken a train to Faro, the ancient capital of the Algarve. Having recently read Victoria Hislop’s novel, ‘The Island’ about the leper colony on the isle of Spinnalonga, just off the coast of Cyprus, I had assumed that terrible disease had been eradicated. The woman we saw in Faro suggested that was not the case.

Lise took the picture of me in the Bone Chapel at my insistence. She didn’t like the place and doesn’t like the picture but it had to be taken and is the obvious image to accompany this poem. So there.