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.