Temporarily in Oxford

We woke up painfully early to get the cheap bus, which we missed. A train and a taxi stood in our way, and while the first was devilishly challenging, the second was insurmountable. Who'd have thought that Southampton has no taxis at 6AM?

Having already paid 12£ for the bus which we missed, another 70£ was needed for the train. By 9am, penniless and tired, we were in Oxford, where the sun shines bright and watches down on the streets like the overeducated gargoyles strolling across the college rooftops. 

TEMPORARILY IN OXFORD
By Anne Stevenson

Where they will bury me

I don't know.

Many places might not be

sorry to store me.

The Midwest has right of origin.

Already it has welcomed my mother

to its flat sheets.

The English fens that bore me

have been close curiously often.

It seems I can't get away from

dampness and learning.

If I stay where I am

I could sleep in this educated earth.

But if they are kind, they'll burn me

and send me to Vermont.

I'd be an education for the trees

and would relish, really,

flaring into maple each October—

my scarlet letter to you.

Your stormy north is possible.

You will be there, engrossed in its peat. 

It would be handy not

to have to cross the whole Atlantic

each time I wanted to

lift up the turf and slip in beside you.