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Under The Old Whale Bones

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If you can find your way back here
let’s meet
under the old whale bones
this place that we each love
Where we look out to sea
or back towards the sleeping town

One day, we’ll stand together
and unbeknownst to us
it will be
for the last time in our lives

Whichever of us, must go first
let’s make a promise to meet again
under the old whale bones
Hearts filled with feeling
and the beauty of the harbour lights
reflected on the water

The hem of night is chasing us
with its rude goodbye
as it claims its prize
and lays us down
as we close our sleeping eyes

One day, we’ll smile at one another
and unbeknownst to us
it will be
for the last time in our lives

Mum, dad, when you 
slip into that endless blue
or if I am gone before you
Let’s find some way back and meet
under the old whale bones

We’ll pose for someone’s photos
ghosts that chatter
or ghosts that silently
contemplate the sea
under the old whale bones

We’ll stand together
and look out across the sand
stretching as wide 
as our smiles...
 

[2021]

parentsghostsdeathmemorieswhalebones

◄ Holy Terror

Our Still Leaping Hearts ►

Comments

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jennifer Malden

Sun 31st Oct 2021 09:41

Simply beautiful. Loved 'the hem of night is chasing us'. Also although it is about death, it isn't sad or gloomy, but the love and affection in it comes out in spite of the topic. Quite an achievment.

Jennifer

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Tom

Mon 11th Oct 2021 10:13

Thank you Holden, Aisha, Bramwell, Stephen G, Stephen A and MC Newbury for the likes. And Ray, Greg and John too. I really appreciate you reading.

I have been visiting Whitby many times a year since I was young and often set my poems there (though not often explicitly). I took the attached photo on New Year's Eve in 2018 and thought it would probably one day inspire a poem - and it did.

I'm so pleased you enjoyed it. Of all the things we could do 'afterwards' haunting the places the we loved with the people we loved sounds like something I could get on board with. ?

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M.C. Newberry

Fri 8th Oct 2021 15:11

A haunting depiction of the contemplation of life's richness and the reality of its finality using the context of a favourite location in
wonderful style. The sort of writing that deservedly lingers in
the mind.

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John Coopey

Fri 8th Oct 2021 08:24

Marvelous stuff, Tom.

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Greg Freeman

Thu 7th Oct 2021 03:27

Ah, Whitby ...! The repetition in this poem feels like the waves, Tom. Constant and reassuring.

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raypool

Wed 6th Oct 2021 19:07

Lovely writing Tom. I saw them once and was struck by the atmosphere of Whitby at Christmas, so this adds a dimension to that memory.

Ray

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Stephen Atkinson

Wed 6th Oct 2021 17:54

Both melancholic & uplifting. Beautiful stuff, Tom

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Stephen Gospage

Wed 6th Oct 2021 16:56

A beautiful, inspiring poem, Tom. Really enjoyed it.

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