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thegentletraveler

Wooden Whale

Feb 11 2019

St Leonard's on Sea


The sun has come out And holly suddenly grows On wet wood That has only seen glimpses Of healing warmth In weeks And suddenly It may seem possible That all can be forgiven Unkind words Said in the dead of night Under pretense Of control And drink.

That I was this way And you were that And none of this will Ever be spoken about Except to the eye of the whale A forgotten mammoth Lost in the fog.

But now he pokes his wooden head Out of the darkness and Into clear air.

He smiles in the open As springtime emerges And little dogs bring hope To desperation A smile to sadness Kindness to the cruelty That icy cold winds Can bring.

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