An Essex estuary walk
Seagulls and Swans
and smugglers inns
Sail boat rigging clinking in the cool breeze.
the tide slowly going out
To reveal the old Ford.
Memorial benches, pointing to favourite views,
remember beloved fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, friends.
the people of importance.
We sit and enjoy the cool.
Then bring home some honey from Idle cottage.
Later I water the scorched grass.
covered in feathers,
smooth grey, fluffy white
As well as patches of pigeon poop feeding the Earth
The smooth grey-brown bark of the bay,
invites my touch.
in the evening I wait in the hospital car park,
quiet now it’s the weekend again.
Meditation brings me back to my senses.
a rustle of wind through conifer pines.
green-grey bark cracked and gnarled
And a mass of seed pods
pale green protrusions
from a stiff sedge-like shrub lining the perimeter fence.
the cool wind wafts over me.
And I follow my breath.