Wide Open Spaces

The egg timer
in your bedsit
trickles
grain by grain

You and me
on Porth Mawr
the beach
touched by ocean
stopwatch the waves

In my heart
I do not have
to not waste paper
when I write to you
from Big Sky
down to pinpoint
then out to circle
the equator


~ ~ ~


This book of poetry has been out in the rain

You can wander through acres of imported trees
sit by the pond with massive fish
eat your sandwich, flask of coffee

Out and up the shingle path
wet with drainage from the mountain
Up the track, past the chimney
(vent for the tunnel)

The peak is hollowed into a quarry
it stops the wind, blocks your view

You throw stones
they echo



~ ~ ~




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