The rain has moved on for now.
The gulls gather to sip from
pools on the flat felt roof.
Other showers tread toward the city,
I see their beat-up bodies advancing closer.
From the M.D.’s office on the
seventh, I sit back in a leather chair
and savour the view across Brighton.
To the south, islands of green
shade the sea and to the north
the hills are silenced in shadow.
The clouds have become many.
I can’t see beyond
their first few ranks,
and what little light breaks
onto slate and wave
is quickly consumed.
There is no halt in sight,
only the winter storms splitting the
channel water in two,
like columns at the point
where ancient allies meet.
This Christmas day noon
I’m working shift yet she
is far away — I see the
battered shore and
the cold streets uniting
against the coming test,
witnessing their child’s
ingratitude for the very first time.
Thank you for your kind response, and I am happy to have found your site and poetry.
Ivor thanks for stopping by and for taking time to read my work. It’s perfect that you took to heart those couple of lines.
This site is a work in progress. Site is under construction but I’ll get there.
Thanks again and I am going to go through your works to have a good read. Cheers from Brighton, England.
Hi Nick I’ve been reading some of your poems, and I’m quite interested in your writings, I liked these lines from your verse
“like columns at the point
where ancient allies meet.”
And I’d like to thank you for following my blog/website, muchly appreciated, I hope you enjoy reading my humble writings, and ‘m from, Geelong, Australia. Cheers. Ivor.