Lorna, King Lear And Portrush Poem by Leslie Philibert
Lorna, King Lear And Portrush
A seafront full of salt; a lost girl
And a wind that puts space between us.
The rain has stolen my voice
My face numb with a thousand needles.
A big dirty of a tide; a flood wind
Sly as a gull`s dive over black water.
And if I shouted King Lear, drunk and eternal
At the stars full of cold distance
Then that was the back of my eye,
A burnt picture soaked, the real camera.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/29/2026 4:15:27 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
