Surfing the wave of my reminiscence
keepsakes smothered in laudanum
rainy-day linctus
crosswinds wet and chill the pebbles
rock the tethered Skomer Ferry
I linger within a lullaby, stuck
on the marram grass, numbed
with narcosis, mellow-warmed
by your hypnosis
Soon I'll have to jump into orbit –
satellites programmed to collide
To the south
the sun picks out a triangle –
the weather vane on top of St Mary's Church spire
the old fort ruins near Gateholm
and the lighthouse on Tower Point
I go back to the car
excited by the brewing sorcery
Maybe on the coast road I'll lose
I'll lose control
~ ~ ~
Well, we certainly cleared the room
A couple twisters invited to lunch
Two eyes calm within their own cyclone
Our hosts
hands on temples
skedaddled
I guess you're back home now
No guilt or ego
We just translate
our lines