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.


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!

33 thoughts on “Buoyant

  1. This writing seems to speak of my grief. The cuckoo within haiku is associated with summer as well as mourning, longing, melancholy.

  2. 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.

    1. . 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

  3. I hear the cuckoo call alone
    Turn solo circles with the swifts.

    this is lovely… and those last 5 lines – incredibly … I don’t know … sad and powerful in their relatability…


  4. This poems almost had me in tears. Such poignancy in your words, Laura!

  5. This is beautiful! Visceral–every shift of sun and rain, tide and wind is felt.

    1. 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

  6. 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,

  7. elegant and powerful as a wave, Laura, with that last verse a crescendo – a crash – a washing away ~

  8. 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)

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