My brother, my eyes

d.n. simmers

          After Tim Lilburn

Walking down
to the beach, to the beacon, and the giant
aluminum crab snapping the air
at the Planetarium.

Shifting through mist and sunlight.

Shuffling small stones
away from our feet.

We would talk
of everything and of nothing.

The day turning
and slanting towards us,
like a hungry cat with
one eye blinking.

And the sea would slush
and hiss near the edge of the sugar shaped sand.

Wandering and wondering
what if and why,
while the path rose along the rise towards
the maritime museum, slouching shoes filling up with dust.

A few dragonflies followed in the spring. Hornets buzzing angrily, in late September.

Shifting shapes against the morning
until the afternoon tea collected us, at the coffee shop.

And you starting in the flesh and later, becoming a memory.

            





 

d.n. simmers, is an on line editor with Fine Lines. He has six published chapbooks and has been in the Common Ground Review and Poetry Salzburg Review and is in the recently launched anthology From the Heart Of it All. He is working on his second poetry book right now.

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