i
It surely cannot last too long
This segregation. Already the count
Has reached some; this year is
Turning three. I, too, turn and keep
Lookout, so often staring out.
Empty and still is the horizon.
The beach swept clean
The streets swept clean
Migrating birds have gone and come
Again and yet once more.
I hear the cuckoo call alone
Turn solo circles with the swifts.
All signs of you are only pinned
to memory.
ii
Beached high up the shingle strand
tides barely lap these clinker boards.
Yet they are surely weathering
– sun bleached grey
– rain drenched moss
– wind burnt where the paint peels.
The chains that anchor down
quite rusty now and feeble
to a great storm surge.
Please pray it comes one Autumn. One Astronomical
tide under a crucifixion sky. Buoyant at last
with a silent cry. Unmoored. Free.
Breaking apart on an outward swell
As you did, whilst I slept on, so well.
With this nautical photo prompt, Carrie has launched our Sunday Muse!
PoetryPix 
This writing seems to speak of my grief. The cuckoo within haiku is associated with summer as well as mourning, longing, melancholy.
it is indeed a poem of grief Brenda- my personal loss and all the arrivings and leavings of loved ones personified by our migrant birds
Affecting and poignant, I think we have all surely felt this way at one time or another.
–Fireblossom/Shay
the universality of grief is thus one we can all feel in such poetry
Oh that very last line is powerful Laura! The sadness flows from l to ll and as said before is certainly full of what we all can relate to. Thank you so much for joining us at the Muse my friend.
. That boat spoke so clearly to me! with all your photo prompts I go with the very first, sometimes almost subliminal, reaction so the poetry that follows often surprises me! thank you for these Sundays and the chance to write and share with each other
This is very beautiful and powerful Laura. I hope your new home brings you happiness.
many thanks Jude – just 2 weeks away and yet another cog in the wheel of life will turn
I like the prayer for buoyance on the horizon of a beleaguered today, Laura.
yes it’s a non-melancholic death wish
this is lovely… and those last 5 lines – incredibly … I don’t know … sad and powerful in their relatability…
💔
David
you understand grief so well David – thank you for your appreciation
Strong Laura, a bite of sorrow, a sting of grief. Well written!
absolutely loved your comment – so succinct – thank you Rob!
This poems almost had me in tears. Such poignancy in your words, Laura!
many thanks Sunita – it is a teary poem
This is beautiful! Visceral–every shift of sun and rain, tide and wind is felt.
nicely observed existential elements 😉
Buoyant had me feeling sadness …. the last stanza of this beautifully composed poem ~~~~ stellar!
thank you Helen – it may seem paradoxical between title and feelings in the poem but its also about not fearing death and the end to separation from loved one
Brava! Not enough good things to say about this.
thank you – am I allowed to say “Aw-shucks”
Yes, of course!
A short ballad waiting for the other parts. Very nice, Laura.
I’m not up on the move or your change, I will browse a bit.
Thanks, and Cheers,
..
Interesting, Jim, about the ballad. You have not missed anything much here about my house move – but some also follow my gardening blog and that is where I’ve posted about it
elegant and powerful as a wave, Laura, with that last verse a crescendo – a crash – a washing away ~
what fabulously poetic feedback – much appreciated!
The ghosts linger. The gap ebbs and flows.
Having moved 3 times since the beginning of 2020, I understand well the longing for some kind of permanence. I hope you find it in your new home. (K)
so well put – thank you for that.
p.s. I am finally going to put down roots – for a while at least!
Good! That’s the way I feel. I don’t want to move again ever.
A sorrowful poem which I feel turns grief to anger, to hope by the end.
only anger missing here
The anger is not a necessity.