a ship, a girl, a memory, an end, going towards and away from but returning to
Somewhere in my mind
there was a leakage:
witness the slow accumulation
of grey water,
but I still began, down stony beach
and shackled track, the walk to town.
And as the stars,
bloated by too much rain,
quested the sky like lonely birds
I knew another presence there.
She walked. She spoke.
Her hair was perfume
and her dress swung round her knees
until its music maddened me,
but even then she was already coasting
down the sombre streams and out to sea
like some enchanted ship,