From a Voyage
Into a postcard scene, tropic lagoon,
palmfronds freehand, glossy horizon,
steps the ageing writer tended
by his divorcee daughter,
her twin godsons at side
who don’t suspect how the
word ‘Rest’ panics the old.
Floating the lagoon I saw
weightless on the reef below
a single sheet of written paper.
Within a breath’s reach it puffed
into pale cloud at my fingertip
before I could grasp a word,
but I was taken hard by the belief
it carried the fist lines of a novel
or at the least a sonnet.
Poolside at a resort, watching newly lovers
at play, and first-time mothers tender, he feels
an urge to call to them all: ‘What events
you have in store, what astonishing times,’
but his daughter has adjusted his deck chair
and the moment is gone.
For Contrapasso Magazine.