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I resurrected some old Catholic joke.
She laughed hard as tablets; stoned, morals broke.
We spoke politics: the Bar Party's best;
half page of sense; internet the rest.
Then in our speech, slinked some sultry theme
so hissing that steam whistled in my dream.
Market exchange-out and out- call it.
I checked her out. She out-sourced my wallet.
I couldn't tell how lonely I'd become,
I listened for the sound my tread would send,
I talked in rooms, the rooms that should be home:
and heard echo, echo, only special friend.
Then going out and sitting by the sea,
upon a bench, and rained on by the light,
a girl sat down beside me-yes by me! -
a voice surged water sounds, and ocean eyes for sight.
and there was drift and current in this voice,
her gentle face outshone a sea of sky
She took my hand, so dead, but to her choice,
and echo, echo still you gave reply.
like waves, the girl retreated far away
and in myself, that echo..still my friend,
was all in all-not much settles down to stay
but like the waters never find an end.
My arms then reached to heavens as for help,
and they bcame new branches, summer green
and tears stream down to roots, some boot-clung kelp.....
and I, arbutus- shoreline's, stubborn scene.
The leashless sweep of sky and sea forever
the vast blue air mooring into vast blue quays
blurred, seamless leap of love both share together.
They seem immortal. I am one of these.
Glenn Bagshaw
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-bar-ter-system/
