The Red Satyr Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The Red Satyr
The red satyr he wandered
As the free wander
There in Hastings Gardens
That was the limit of his wandering
That was the limit of his freedom
For
He loved the firs of the Garden
And the old ancient oak
The other trees
The shrubs
And the old ancient monument
How much he ran
Around it in a night!
And then
The bastions walls he looked from them
The sea-bosom
The skiffs
The marina he saw
Heard the old familiar sounds
Of engines of sea vessels
A door opening
Then closing
from another house the television set
he heard
then shouting
then banging close the door
and so time passed
and days
and nights
weeks, months, years
till old
half-crippled
he rose up over the sliding bastions
and a fall was heard
a few groans loud
smaller
smaller
till they stopped
and silence fell again
motionless in the morning discovered they
the red satyr.