When we were there

Thin moments gone forever
reflect falsely in what we saved and unfold:
the shine of a postcard of the place in Summer
while we were there in Winter
and the light was greyish.

Cliffs and rocks caught our attention
and the smell of a foreign meal,
but gulls of the kind we knew
reminded us that we were not there for ever.
The sunset washed ashore to die at our feet.

I found a writing pen with the ink dried up
but it had such lovely colour, teal,
and you captured sounds from that place,
they danced on your tongue in a pirouette,
only to jump ship the moment we left Britain.

Comments on: "When we were there" (4)

  1. What a lovely line, Ina:
    The sunset washed ashore to die at our feet.
    Your language is getting more creative! Good poem.

  2. ‘I found a writing pen with the ink dried up
    but it had such lovely colour, teal,’

    Love those lines … specifics like that really speak to the meaning of the piece. XO

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