Beachcomber's dirge
along a shingled beach, clash of gulls
wend upwards, disappearing into grey
night's high tide recedes, a naturalist gathers whelks
studied in palm, ignoring clatter
--an echo
what makes blue periwinkles smile?
is it that they cluster together?
she asked forty years before
museums and metronomes filled spaces until
one last shell is tossed back to the brine
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Author's Note
an old man remembers
Other stories by Walter Bjorkman
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Good to read your work here again, Walter.
"clash of gulls
wend upwards, disappearing into grey
night's high tide recedes"
Makes me pine for the Banks. Really like the letting go of the one shell at the end. *
Very good poem, Walter.
"what makes blue periwinkles smile?
is it that they cluster together?" Lovely work.*
Compression and grace. Great work. *
Lovely *
Wonderful imagery. *
This is my favorite part:
what makes blue periwinkles smile?
is it that they cluster together?
she asked forty years before
museums and metronomes filled spaces
One not to be ignored. The ending is fabulous - the last 6 lines could stand alone as a poem, but the imagery above is beautiful too. Great writing!*
Thanks all!
"clash of gulls" is haunting.