NOT REALLY A STRANGER

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 NOT REALLY A STRANGER

I don't know what the right term is
For this kind of tide
It is high but not stormy
Grey flecked with white
Slightly misty, bad tempered
I get the feeling it would like
To burst through the walls
And drown me quietly.

I stare through the windows
Of a seafront bistro
Designed to show the bay
At its best to visitors
But the waves are not playing
It is only just spring
And winter doesn't want
To go away

And I'm not really a stranger
Although I don't live here now
I left something behind
I keep returning to look for
Don't ask me what it is
I don't know
It's somewhere out there
Breaking angrily on the shore.

AberystwythDavid SubacchiWelsh Poetry

◄ FIELD GUNS

HEART OF WALES ►

Comments

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David Subacchi

Sun 24th May 2015 17:12

Thanks very much for this useful feedback Harry. Much appreciated.

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Harry O'Neill

Sat 23rd May 2015 16:25

David,

An excellent title and very effective mood-setter which leads up to kind of drawing felt attraction.

The middle stanza is a really original way of describing a certain kind of weather (which suits the mood of the whole piece)

A (very tiny) quibble might be that the `burst`in stanza one doesn`t suit the mood of the rest of it.

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David Subacchi

Mon 18th May 2015 20:31

Thanks very much Cynthia.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Sat 16th May 2015 13:29

And it must be well-worth following up. This poem is just terrific - such a mood so cleverly created. Good to have you on WOL again.

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David Subacchi

Fri 15th May 2015 19:55

You can find more of my poetry on line simply by searching on DAVID SUBACCHI

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