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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.

 

David Subacchi.2016.

From my Collection of the same name.

🌷(2)

poetryWALESAberystwyth

◄ A MAN HOLDING HIS HORSE

JUST ABOUT ►

Comments

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Taylor Crowshaw

Tue 4th Dec 2018 06:51

I really enjoyed this David. I was born and brought up yards from the sea. I moved many years ago but always there is a yearning to return. ?

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David Subacchi

Mon 3rd Dec 2018 18:27

You can find more of my work on Write Out Loud and also on line simply by searching for DAVID SUBACCHI POET.

My 6th collection WHERE IS WALES? will be out in early 2019.

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