the exile

tell me about the sea
and what it means
and what the weather’s like in Brindisi
where my people come from
who I never met

I know more about the sea
and what it means
than I do of those who made me
and summoned me from sleep

tell me about the sky
and what that means

and what it means
to live without regret

I spend my days collecting stories
and not a true one yet

pattern

we should drive off to the coast now
you and I
wander to the shore
we don’t go there anymore

the beach was just a place
we took the children to
if we went there on our own
what on earth would we both do
but walk the dog
and wonder where they are

the pattern of the seasons
is all we know
we arrive – we bloom – we fade – we go

all of us depart
none of us survive
we should drive off to the coast now
you and I

[first posted 14 November 2014]