A poem … the learner
Looked back at the poem … and remember the day …
This is a the poem … I really would value your thoughts even on Silent Sunday
The dinghy was robust, squat and buoyant
pulled up on the slipway
undignified and vacant.
On the shingle slightly tilted to one, side -waiting
The coming tide lapped at the river’s edge.
She tiny, not so robust
had made the journey many times before.
but now alone.
The breeze still and warm
the second tide at noon was slack .
The ideal time for the learning girl.
Tentative steps in her summer pumps
on shingle, golden in the sunlight.
He walked behind rolling a cigarette
not anxious, his first born taking the oars
Until now he had taken the strain
her within his arms
Her tender limbs not meatier than the the oars themselves
they too – taller!
He, now cigarette rolled and strategically behind his ear
Boat pulled into the water at…
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