Canto CCCXXXIV

There is a beach I dream of now and then,
the run down sort, well past its glory days,
cream teas poured for aging denizens

still anchored to their Daily Express ways.
Only their dogs are dumb enough to splash
about in the silty, sub zero waves.

To tell the truth, I’m not fond of the place,
it’s more the fact I get there on the bus
to interchange within a field of maize

bisected by a road devoid of cars,
no pavements or buildings to be seen either,
no sightings of the local populace,

just me on my Todd at the bus shelter,
waiting for the empty double decker,
the obscured face and mumbles of the driver…

Sometimes I get the waking urge to make a
return to the beach that doesn’t exist.
I spare no wistful thought for shoreline breakers,

it is the no-man’s bus stop that I miss.

Advertisements

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    Jul 31, 2012 @ 00:00:09

    Surreal thoughts…perhaps one day you’ll wake up to find yourself on that bus travelling through a field maize to a distant beach. You’ll read your daily express, eat your cream scones and moan about the weather…and all your relatives will say,
    “How sad, he passed away in his sleep” ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,503 other followers

%d bloggers like this: