One Seaside Inn One Day One Late October
Such life, there
As they - the young couple - talk
Here where the warm Sun of late October
Warms,
And I am happy,
Again, calmed
By Chablis whose bottle there
Is almost
Empty.
So there is a smile, one terrace on one sea-side
Inn:
A cheerful knowing of life
For the goodness it is, can - should - be:
No grief, here
While the warm Sun
The sea-breeze
The wine
The distant company
Last.
No desire to constrain what-is
To some abstract-ology:
Only a leaving to make such living
As dwells with each moment, flowing
On the pebble-beach, one child,
Playing
So many tears
Since the breeze is only this breeze,
Her laugh only her laugh
And I - only what-was
Where Seagulls call, a tide
Returns
While Sun makes pearls with waves
And a blue a so-small Cumulus cloud
Does not break until my horizon:
Here, in his hand the photograph
So recently found -
The young man, proud, defiant;
No smile, as others smile,
No gift of play, redeemed:
Only a posture, posturing
Which stayed forty years
Except for days so readily, so easily forgotten
Until his rushing flow of life
Constrained
Became freed, humbled
By her dying
Making life
Here
Where Sun warms
And a piece of Paradise drifts
Down.
One moment
Only one moment
As beauty becomes known
Because what-is, is let-be
As the Sun lets-be cloud, tide, we
Here where old town meets older Sea
One day in late October:
But how shall I never forget
Again?
DW Myatt