Sea Wall
Ambushed by this sky.
A watercolour brush
deft with pink promises.
I linger on a border
where waves fret.
Gulls are rusted voices.
Last night’s thunder
bothered no one.
The leafy graffiti
loiters in gutters.
Houses are buttoned
until summer guests.
I hear the slap of sea.
My labrador tugs
a chain of loneliness.
The pull to hours
of strolls with you.
We ghost along a wall.
by Phil Wood
Editor’s Note: The startling metaphors in this poem underscore the quiet loneliness of the narrator’s voice.
Leave a Reply