It has been a pleasure to be reading Dante's Inferno and revisiting Ovid's Metamorphoses during the recent hot weather. In particular, Ovid's descriptions of landscape, which evoke contrasts of hot sunshine and the cool of shady groves, have been fitting to sitting outside baking in the sun (my yard has no shade unless I hang sheets to create a makeshift gazebo).
Back inside now in the cool I am drafting another section of poems which are intended as part of my research project. The first 3 poems came in a flurry - the last 2 are being more reluctant to give themselves over. I have been letting them settle for a couple of days - it seemed perhaps I was manipulating the words in a way that made them become awkward on the page in contrast to the ease of settling carried off by the words in those first 3 pieces. I came to realise I was persevering with a kind of forcing to fit that is never going to work (a glass slipper effect?).
I have put the draft of poem 4 to one side in order to start again fresh as the lines I had were distracting and preventing me from being able to rearrange the material. Time has come to revisit them so here's hoping I can get back to some of the heat of the first 3...