This mist makes ghosts of the drifting days,
Shrouding hill and cliff and cove with pale indifference;
On the shoreline, faint shadows gather in small worlds,
Framed by blank horizons and a white line of surf,
Just apparent in this strange eradication.
Somewhere, above and beyond the levelling murk,
A vain sun blazes at the creaking sea,
Taunting it with windborne lies of endless sunshine.
19 August, 2018
YOU ARE READING
Fragments And Reflections
PoetryPoems looking at everything and anything not in my other collections. Here you'll find life and time, wild oceans and lonely coast paths, busy streets and empty hotel rooms, wild concerts and late night writing. All just fragments and reflections, l...
