Peter Dane
I look at the dark sky above, the sea
below, also dark, look at the blue sky in the distance: far, beautiful view; then the slivered sea below, for me blinding. I turn away. For one or two minutes I see nothing, the room is dark; the eyes adjust, once more I see the stark simplicity I live in: couch, a few old chairs, the table where I eat, unless I’m writing, short of time, eat where I cook, impatient to return and read that book or write my poem. I don’t mind the mess the house is in. She died a week ago. I know the sky which blinds me lies below. From Timeless Love - Poems by Peter Dane |
