The Royalty

Of course I remember
That peculiar instance of stasis,
Stretching our legs against the Avon,
Burning our tongues on hot coffee.
No more a father than Adam;
The two of us brothers, you said,
Passing me the hip flask.

Uncomfortable with the fishing
You came more to watch me
Stalk through fruitless reed-beds;
So that your landing of a leviathan
Signalled a kind of divine irony,
And my wonder at seeing its sun-flecked scales
Was soon leavened by dusk and envy.