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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