The call home

The tides of tomorrow and tomorrow and the next tomorrow sweep into crevices of shored shells. The waves nudge these hollows of yesterday’s habitat into the barrels of tomorrow, tomorrow and the next tomorrow. There the shored shells break with tomorrow, tomorrow and another tomorrow dashed to granules that lip the tideline. Salted foam seepsContinue reading “The call home”

On this beach, I wish to see the end of time

I often write to capture moments that I have experienced in solitude. Consider for example the afternoon that produced this poem, “On a rock amongst rocks“. I had walked out beyond the beach of white sand to the rocky inlet beyond the seafront houses, the fishermen and the dog owners. Each day I used this landmark as the half-way point measureContinue reading “On this beach, I wish to see the end of time”

A 1,000 RAINBOWS, ROCKS AND PROCESS

On a rock amongst rocks When the last rays fire after which all will be still and ashed Here, on this rock I wish to stand to see the end of time. From here you face due South; face the end of the world, but between you and then blue-grey barrels roll toward the shoreContinue reading “A 1,000 RAINBOWS, ROCKS AND PROCESS”