Winter Sorcery
The fact that I am small
He does not seem to mind at all:
He walks on by the creek
And I, breathless, close behind,
Open my mouth to shriek-
Yet voiceless I am, confined,
Winter's fingers everywhere-
Its salt and icy breath
Over land as white as death.
No one but myself and he :
The man with the boyish smile,
Parted lips, gazing for eternity,
Time seemingly frozen awhile-
Till he points to a fragile boat.
The leaden sky is bleak.
The vessel rolls, waves peak
And dissolve once more;
Liquid hills our craft's terrain.
Cast afloat, afar from shore,
His delighted eyes plain
As the sea rocks and cradles me.
Walks to the creek are long gone.
I miss this tall, sure-footed one
No wizardry can ever ease
Long winter nights- our day soon passed:
Yet immortal those dreamlike seas
While sands in time do shift.
By Dido Walker ( Copyright,2005)
Dedicated to my Father, Peter Hayward Evans who died in the winter of 1963
Photo by Ales Krivec on Unsplash