A solitary sort rest in peace
in your little garden on his own
at café tables who loved the mountains
and the sea how cloud shadow
glides over slopes reads his poetry
his lips moving should I introduce myself
now the waves carry your soul as
grebes dive the bay don’t cry
because it’s over takes his coffee
with a millionaire’s shortbread smile because
it happened last night saw Eternity’s
bright blue motorboat speed across the bay
write random lines narrow feint & margin
on A4 paper with gel pens
oystercatchers strafe sand for razor clams
he talks line endings who loved this
part of the world also loved
the shook silver foil of early light
across the bay lines that don’t quite
reach the edge of the page
but break half way bob like
the yellow buoy and the red
on the incoming tide he stares
at something no-one else sees the still
unknown god of language his favourite
place together again till we’re all
.
Steve Waling
.