There were severed shades on the waterfront,
the shore cradling that sombre sea;
wind moving shine across waterfront,
creating spaces with rolling beats.

And as I lay by the side of the beach,
resting beneath that warmth of sun,
with fingertips laced through bluebell flowers,
I’m at your hill; missing your ****.



It was a beautiful day.
The sun set at nine, and it’s different in the evening.
The rain fell with a faint sheet of blue-grey, far without end, and with stars filling ten times the space that measure city’s sky, Ness Boy followed that leaf litter path; and as daylight closed its curtains, he could see there was a circle of stars above that mountain.