One day in summer

I might come to meet you

at the city's edge

Some day

Perhaps in summer after storm

You know the place

Where concrete ends

And weeds without weight on them

Gem-hung wave and sparkle

To a cliff pale distance

and hurt sea

In white topped dying anger

Gulls fly low there

Over bruised fields

Marked as if by massive lovers

Or trampled by

Child hoards revelling

At brow-top of humped road

Where bent heads

Lift to hills

Rising out of corn

To that place I might come

Some day in summer

And stand

Silhouetted

Waiting.

Tweet