Riverton Dawn Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

I had been reading about Nietzsche
In ‘The Consolations of Philosophy'
And woke early pondering
His strange walrus moustache,
Clumsy way with women, and the causes of his early death.

So I went into the purpure blazoned dawn
Took my camera and tried to catch the ebbing night
As it cleared across the estuary
And the moon still silvered the mirror
Of the calm water behind the harbour bar -

And the lights of the little town
Led me down towards reflection,
Where walking on the grass strip
In my bare feet in that most beautiful of mornings,
I squished a dog's droppings.

Strangely there was no irritation
And as I cleaned my sole on the grass
Descended towards the bridge
And said good morning to the sheep
In the empty lot over the road

I clicked.

But gradually
That magic subsided as the moments
Between dark and light merged into colour.

It wasn't bouncing out into the Alpine mists
To stake a claim on the next striven ridge
Accompanied by a hound named ‘Ego' -
But there was a moment of becoming

A destined over-man
Even if I had my feet in clay.