The Sun Is Low

The sun is low, catching the road just so

To etch in ebony and gold the slow,

Falling leaves and crooked, dripping branches.

The hills, their nethers tucked under haunches,

Asleep beneath a frigid veil, await the Spring.

And where Autumn had sowed enticing strings

And sprays of rubies, the honest Hawthorn

Bristles there, quite bare, and sharply unadorned.

But oh! When will Winter revoke the cold?

Bring me the sun when the Spring leaf unfolds

And hedgerows are humming with more than

The motors of cars and busses and vans.

A cyclist can pedal without a care

For sleet and drizzle, and ride with arms bare,

Untouched by the chill breeze that numbs the toes,

Sears the lungs, and burns the marrow of old bones.

Where are the boats?

The boats don't come and the river shrinks.

The seaweed and barnacles crack,

Bleached on the feet of the jetty.

And the gentle rain falls elsewhere.

The brilliant boats, all different,

Shining and dark, vast and tiny,

Twinkling in the night,

Clamouring by day,

Jostling on the tide, bumping,

Rubbing colour on old scars.

Out of the shimmering haze they'd sail,

Barely there. Shapeless, slippery shades,

Far, far from fingers, itching.

Then suddenly - here!

A quick tack, and snap!

The ropes slap ,

The hold lets go

The putty and pumice and plantain and potties,

The shot putters, shooters and fleeces and dresses,

The favourite thingies and thingies that fear us or cheer us or spear us,

In Byzantine friezes or mortuary freezers,

For slicing and dicing and putting and placing and cutting and mulling,

Until it is just so.

But no.

They are not seen on the horizon.

They could not even reach the jetty.

Where are the boats?

How do I call them?

Could I summon just one?

A wracked and stuttering hull,

Dragged through the slurry to the shore.

You

Abandoning my life Unfeeling in my flight I ran away from love And you I reveled in the new Remade myself anew Thought I was not alike To you But though I travelled far Spent years as far apart As possibly I could From you Despite the hurt and harm The raging and the charm I cannot break the link With you The years slough off the layers Of artless masks and airs Until I see myself Like you Gravity does its thing I slip into your skin And Time recasts me into You