Elements From A Conversation
written by: Gavin Haycock
@poetry_pieces
I thought of waves
when departure arrived
how they appear
after a time when the tide silently shifts
how they emerge
in their lines of blue with trailing white crowns
phosphorus procession
imperial yet somewhat languid amid it all
to kiss and bow to whatever is offered by the coast
and then, when spent
how they relent, turn back, submerge
I thought of trees
barely moving in the calm breeze of a morning
standing sentinel, having seen dawn
grapple with a shawl left overnight across the horizon
I thought of air, mist arising as clouds
in slight disarray sketch their way
across a driftwood canvas sky
I thought of breath
how it departs the tongue, over the run of hands
along tracer lines of vines reaching into other lives
Afterwards in a cafe
a woman holds a cup between frail fingers
it reads: Eat Life
someone leans over, murmuring
“A penny for them dear. Don’t let the day take you some place else.”
Awake in another room of waiting before being a wake
a man fidgets, complaining of tormented sleep
cinder-block flesh, rippled grey with years
he keeps asking what time it is
as two old mates just feet away, pick at imaginary things
they say: “I’ll put your socks on to keep you warm” and “have a sip of water.”
silhouette whispers
as secrets and dreams
are unceremoniously lost around the disheveled bed
totems for the gathered living
Dylan, as he once was, full of drink and flight of pen
by his own fiery light had scribbled
in a fury of hope and fear perhaps
not to gently enter where everything goes
raging against it, incendiary, incredulous even
and when he himself was at wit’s end
waves upon and over him
his last words fell, burning slowly without flame
falling away from his mouth
molten exhalations, steaming into an emerald sea
“After 39 years, this is all I have done.”
- Distance - January 21, 2022
- Afloat - August 1, 2020
- Comfort Of Strangers - January 30, 2019
