A View By The Sea .. . The dead die young Ernest Albert Bett your concrete grave is a trough with no pigs yet in it just convolvulus and ivy I stepped across your withered torso the silence of the dogs I walk death in spades around me shadows of oak walk past me Gravelled path tidied by perspective runs a silent brook so ghostly wrought open the iron gate kept after school, the bony lonely Ernest Albert Ball where would you live? by limestone cliffs and fulmar nests moonlit waves that cannot sleep my mothers grey ashes cascaded © edenbraytoday09.04, 2021
For further work, visit edenbray progressive poetry.
Categories: L.W.W.O.H. Submissions Posts