Against the Lean Light
You told me in this light - “It was hard to imagine“ -
That lean salty village, with its long singular street
Marooned in a decaying sandcastle patiently awaiting
A faith, played upon, like shipwrecked children, touching
To grasp the turning tides of memories you imagine, - no more -
The perennial grey gulls - of seasons - immovable against the bleak
Beauty of nature’s immutable cliff, releasing its ancient song
Back through those frenzied currents of wind, water, and mind
Where music flows into time like a river fusing into an ocean,
To be heard - no more - as light flickers through one last dark cry
They are - no more - “but mere shadows" entwined like “silhouettes”
Yet still the salmons leap, suspended, skyward through the rock's spray
Returning an imperfect normality through waves and keys unlocked
In this Doctor’s neat checklist - where hyponotic tunes play upon us all-
Like familiar voices from a remote village - now you find so hard to remember.
