Mornington

The crooked rocks, waves lapping my legs –
the beach where you once stopped to say ‘hi’.
Your echo drew me here,
to wait for a ferry that will not return me.

Forget the seedy districts –
I mean the beatnik cafeteria, remember?
Sun flooding the garden
as would-be prophets read from frantic notebooks.

I prefer to revisit one of our earliest performances
than have another day like yesterday
Still wondering how I got here from where I started
I wasn’t born in chains

I was fairly dismissed by you at the quay
in that jumpy district after the third bottle of wine
I have earnt this dull humourless voice
This art is cruel

About observationblogger

“The more I live, the more I learn. The more I learn, the more I realize, the less I know.”- Michel Legrand