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Dunstanburgh

by Richard Vince

Evening has made cliffs from
The clouds: a seaside sky
Many miles from the coast.

It would be worthy of
A tortured evening stroll,
Or perhaps a period of reflection
As the waves crashed upon
The darkening beach.

In those days, I always took
A girl with me, though she
Never knew it: she would
Be elsewhere, in blissful ignorance
Of the pathetically romantic heart
That carried a shard of her
Many miles away.

Fifteen summers have passed
Since last this was me, but
I can still hear the twilit sea,
Feel the rocky path beneath
My shoes, see the castle stark
Against the indigo sky.

Inevitably, I wanted her to
See it all through my eyes,
But all I could show her was
The dark side of me, lurking
In the shadow of my soul:
Obsession, selfishness, bitterness.

These strata of me eclipsed
Those of the coastline that
She would never see. In her eyes
I crumbled as gradually as
The weathered rock, leaving
Something unrecognisable behind.

Apologies, remorse, guilt:
These were merely glue running
Between the cracks of what was,
Serving only to highlight the
Fissures that were not there before.

10/16/2018

Posted on 10/31/2018
Copyright © 2018 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 11/01/18 at 10:06 AM

Love the music and the soul-searching in your poem.

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