Monday, 12 May 2014



You smelled the lake before you saw
The edge aromas of a time before
You absorbed the tears of a broken
Mother while they put wet clay
Over your Father.

Loosing yourself in a haze of puberty,
In that barren land; you got lost in an
Advancing mist, but the ghost of your
Father finds you now, leaning in,
And whispering through the breeze;
“you’re not the first to suffer
you can face adversity.”

Moved… to another time, another place,
When you made paper boats; with your
Dad’s fragile breath whispers of wonder
Setting them free….
You look to the sky and feel, you sense
A different sphere and know…. Your Father
Was in his element when he was with you
And water, on this land.

Although much of him has faded
You realise this, it fastens you to
The earth loneliness disappearing;
Drifting away from the edges.



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