Adrian Flett Poems
- We Met A Lady -new- At the crossroads a sandstone post takes the ...
- Pushing Eighty Those other places teem, echo shouts of ...
- Grafted In (Tatham Art Gallery Gardens) While just a ...
- In The Chinwag As I sip coffee, read the news eat muffins, ...
- Addington Beach 2 Hear the surging lift of water weight ...
- Addington Beach 1 So bleak so empty is the beach to me as I...
- Landing At Heathrow Over heads of fellow travellers and ...
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Addington Beach 1
So bleak so empty is the beach to me
as I walk its lonely sand soughing length
in an aura of sunless disbelief,
for while yet you fought for life under theatre's
harsh light and knife in rubber gloved hand,
I was killing time.
At the tide's high line of fragile crust
I find a water smoothed stone and tomorrow
when you see me at the door I'll say,
'I gathered it while you were in theatre.'
In stead I waited 'till tomorrows ceased.
Now I return it to the deep.
So sterile seems salt sea and sand to me.
Barren wards and carbolic corridors