White Bay Park
And cows trod on thickened sand,
Bow their heads beneath the sun.
It’s as if this summer was planned,
With days that cannot be done.
That sun implores, infects my sight,
Surges fire through greying sea,
Through my heart and through the night,
Perennial, I am allowed to be.
Could I spend an eternity here?
If I lassoed eternal dusks,
If you were caught as well,
All our present woes would rust
In Atlantic’s alabaster swells.
But life will change, not just the tides.
I cannot say when I’ll be back.
You cannot know what you’ll decide.
Could eternity wait for our return?
I cannot trust a view revived
To last a lifetime I have hardly lived.
Feature Image: Daniele Idini