It was the best of times*
the last of times
a seaside time we often took. 
A late September get-away 
an anniversary. 

But looking back it was no carpe diem,
seizing the past instead, 
replaying your life
as we do nearing death.

There the school playground, those chalk cliff shelters
further and further East from London's bombs
the beaches we walked so carefreely
over the mined and barbed memories
of a war-torn Wasteland

On Margate sands
the spectre of Eliot, broken, sheltering
connecting nothing with nothing.*
Yet each tap of your stick was joining the dots
tracing the pilgrim path, breathless
wearily trod to St Augustine's shrine
in Pugin's late Gothic masterpiece

I should have sensed it was an ending
two tired old English seaside towns
sitting sedately in shabby chic
one beach lift out of order
one lido closed
and the restless swallow swarms
circling overhead as we wheeled 
and turned with them, hand in hand. 

I had no premonition, missed the signs
the closeness of the hour when you would miss
our future.

34 thoughts on “Premonition”

1. The lament in this is so reach with references, and so much about war with the wastelands and two cities… and how can you know, maybe just being in the moment still is the best.

   1. the older we are the more past we have to fill the present and that is half the problem!

2. Margate has a special place in my heart, where we had days out when I was little, and I have friends who live there. I like the seque from the war-torn Wasteland to the spectre of Eliot, Laura, and the gentle seep of grief through your words – I felt as if I was grieving for the past as I read them.

   1. so much nostalgia is grief Kim and that blindsided me at the time

      1. I can’t begin to imagine, Laura. xx

3. Eliot and Dickens, history and memory, language and desire, the past and present, all twine so gracefully in your poem, Laura, to leave a lasting impression of what is missed and what remains. The imagery in all its particulars melds with the tone so perfectly. I especially loved “two tired old English seaside towns/sitting sedately in shabby chic.”

   1. many thanks Dora , it was not easy to make a poem of this with the litany of history so your comment ” imagery in all its particulars melds with the tone” was most reassuring. Thank you for the prompt too

      1. My pleasure!

4. This is incredibly deep and poignant, Laura. I especially like the image of; “St Augustine’s shrine in Pugin’s late Gothic masterpiece.” 💜💜

   1. thank you Sanaa x

5. The layers of history conjuring a future that will only be seen when it becomes the past…is it not always so? But no less poignant or present, for all that. (K)

   1. very nicely observed Kerfe – many thanks

6. How beautifully touching this is to read, filled with sadness of the past yet capturing the scenes of the late September get-away. The grieving is deep and personal.

   1. your use of the word’ touching’ is so apt as the grief felt as constant as the touch of light rain

7. “when you would miss our future.” An original depiction of a breakup.

   1. especially one that death brings about

      1. Yes..

8. A moving, tender write, rich with allusions, the despairing grief in the background so palpable…makes me want to hug the narrator.

   1. the poet/narrator appreciates your words and the hug

      1. ❤️

9. Rich, very…the first stanza says so much ..in some very realistic ways., and then we plunge deep…yes, the phonograph reaches it’s end, and all we hear is that rhythmic scratching noise…

   1. a descriptively apt comment Ain – it starts to look like a film

10. I love the interplay of past event and persons (especially Eliot and the note about him) with personal loss. The description of the seaside towns is vivid and brings to mind “Every Day Is Like Sunday” by the Smiths.

    1. Thank you yes we unknowingly stumbled upon ‘Eliot’ at the Nayland Rock shelter – how apt he wrote here (it’s just had a refurb)

11. HI Laura, beautifully written and thought provoking.

    1. thank you Roberta for dropping by with your encouragement

12. Yes, as others have said, beautifully written – the history, the quotes and allusions, and the personal details at once so ordinary and so special. The line ‘as we do nearing death’ struck home particularly.

    1. Hello and good to see you again Rosemary with much appreciation for your kind words of encouragement

13. ahhhh, laura bloomsbury, how i’ve missed your poetry. thank you for sharing such an intimate moment in time. blessings, ren

    1. and I have missed the encouragement – the likes of which is your comment – many many thanks

14. How little we really know the past and the future. Beautiful!

    1. thank you

15. Ah yes, missed the signs, this caught my attention and tugged at my memories.

    1. 😢

Comments are closed.