three times I came to his door, three times
knocked and knocked until he answered
the first I brought nothing but a quiet entreaty
he turned me away with a shake of his head
the gray skies of autumn and a colding wind
made me shiver as I walked home
the second I offered familial connections
he paused in memory before refusing again
the creak of the ship with its salt-sodden chambers
surrounded me briefly as I stood on his sill
the third I came armed with words that surprised him
keys to a knowledge I should not have known
reluctant but intrigued, he invited me in
a cup of tea, and thus we began,
thus we began, my teacher and I
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