Distance – Page 57

rolling scottish hills
flecked with distant spots of white
between far stone walls
–
waist high grass-
curious lambs
approach the gate

standing in a queue
at the end of my patience
quite unlike this line
–
wind blown sagebrush-
the road I’m on ends
at the horizon

high above the clouds
all my worries down below
so far behind me
–
steaming tarmac-
a double rainbow
delays our flight

last minute details
awhirl with activity
all before we leave
–
fog rolling in
light rain falling
obscuring the jetway

in the overgrowth
well worn by the hands of time
forgotten tombstones
–
by the window
waiting, staring
at the falling snow

sailing the narrows
navigating the graveyards
of nameless seamen
–
rising tide-
waves break
on hidden shoals

walking side by side
my constant companion long
before I met you
–
ebb tide-
our footprints
in the sand

iron seas and skies
sailing into the north wind
my face to the rain
–
solitude-
my paddle dips
into glassy water

eaten alive, wedged
in the belly of the beast
resigned to his fate
–
roaring water-
the spawning grounds
await upstream

faces of the dead
constantly with me waiting
for my eyes to close
–
lost souls-
the silence
of the fen