Still Life

Crunching footsteps as I walk the creekside track
embarrassing the silence
with my presence

I just wanted out
out from inside
my head
the house
the hum
and buzz of appliances
my tinnitus 
relentless

and now I’m here I wonder 
if I should have come
disturb this salty place
all mirror calm
and draped with mists

I have caught it unawares
at rest and unprepared

the heron at the edge is frozen –
is he taught with fishy focus
or held fast in time?

something feels forgotten here
as the tide is paused
and I cannot smell
the silty banks

perhaps it is me.

Posted by

Artist, poet, druid, Faversham-dweller.

5 thoughts on “Still Life

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