This poem appeared in Floodwall magazine-published by the University of North Carolina

By the Pier

 

Such years we had, exultations, bliss

 

Now there is patience, our dull routine

 

Sitting in the park it passes me by

 

Your strange new world, so jealous of it’s time.

 

Mine leaks in steady drips, like rain from trees

 

Lulls me to sweet slumber, three times a day

 

To the smell of fish and chips from the pier

 

A distant brass band, the herring gull squawks.

 

 

 

Once at Salerno, many years ago

 

I killed a man, he is with me now.

 

Somewhere eastwards a storm is brewing

 

Far away the sea churns, unobserved

 

Where there is no other wish than this.

 

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