by John Grey
Squawk of gulls
as the wind of other days
blows off the ocean rolls,
and a blankness
wells up on the horizon.
The past is gone.
Terns slant their wings
parallel to holes in cliff wall.
The pounding of the shore
goes on and on.
The coastline that was and sea
is now one darkness.
Even Spring
is particular in what it renews.
Some merely live the life
of least resistance.
Rising over the dunes,
a solitary figure
frames in falling light
then disappears down the other side.
From nowhere to no place,
retreating flocks
come home.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Orbis, Dalhousie Review and the Round Table. His latest books, “Leaves On Pages” and “Memory Outside The Head” are available through Amazon.
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