Journey - Poem by Alan Dolan
You carried your smile that day
Over wild-shifting shingle
Which felt your unfinished hand
Dig to feel new-cold damp-smooth textures.
Looking not at the lovely terns;
For they hold no mystery,
Cannot be touched, fly away
Into their own shifting space.
Yet the gulls found a place
In your consciousness,
Demanding attention in their
Complaining at our trespass.
And returning you slept,
Waking with others at the coach jerk
For a soaring buzzard;
And soon asleep again,
Tired, unselfconscious, unaware
Of your open-mouthed drooling,
Busily dreaming the day
Into your mind forever.
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