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URL:https://www.learndesk.us/class/6031358776311808/lesson/5c9011bfb456caa570b516b1a07e0102?ref=outlook-calendar
SUMMARY:UNIT 2
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260501T190000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260501T200000
LOCATION:https://www.learndesk.us/class/6031358776311808/lesson/5c9011bfb456caa570b516b1a07e0102?ref=outlook-calendar
DESCRIPTION: Aeneas Through the Looking Glass by T. Alan Broughton I thought the worst the gods Could devise was memory itself - The way it floods the estuaries Of a waking mind, drawn across Fresh water of a new day By the drag of guilt, a moon Of regret. Mother, I would have carried You from the burning city also Had you settled for a human fate. Why won’t you let me forget the stench of brave flesh after The tearing by beak or hound, The woman whose face and hips Still press me in dreams, Friends gone without cry In the sudden clutch of waves? Let me forget, let me Push the future ahead In the labour of each blank day, And if this founds a city Or brings my boy to stand On firmer ground than heaving waves, So be it. I will work For destiny if you walk Behind me, cutting away The last stone of my steps. Instead today you lead me To believe I am entering a temple Of this strange town, but On its walls you paint My own past, scenes As familiar as the smell Of my body sweating. I walk...

https://www.learndesk.us/class/6031358776311808/lesson/5c9011bfb456caa570b516b1a07e0102?ref=outlook-calendar
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