Untitled (Written For Fjf 1994) Poem by Jean Bernard Parr

The islands prowl this unmade bed of sea
like grey cats creeping
no light anywhere
claws of gorse scratching the dishcloth sky
you long for a meltdown fire
to redden a horizon
in lieu of this stillborn sunset
while on that other shore
the ghostly playbrick blocks
cover the fuel rods of Hinckley Point
indistinct through my telescope
my footfall clings to a cliff edge
sharp as your skirt hem
remembered navigation full of heat
you as a city girl then, confident under
a city sun, wintering a fiery cheek,
a furnace of golden hair, your
moves, large with promise
and I, the incubator of despair

the turnkey of time clicks and groans
the gaoler of love
I still look for you in these greying mounds
the mewing seagull and other sounds.