POETRY | LIFE & DEATH | NATURE
Something Blue
What colour means most to you?
At my funeral I want everyone to wear blue,
not because it’s sad but because we knew,
we knew what would become of my body,
heart, soul, and mind the gap within these lines.
I was once a washed-up log befriended by time,
dredged up in estuaries becoming a deadhead shrine,
while each passing heron jumped up with claws at me,
praying for winter to pass through our icy shores.
There was a time when the beach meant something more,
to us hopeless romantics imprisoned by its awe,
or perhaps it was the sight of the torrid sun sinking,
like a dwindling ghost ship that struck the gold horizon.
Still, the sand passes through my mind now and then,
where I find myself clasping the heron’s talisman,
enchanting me to swim once more on the frost-burnt beach,
where your seductive waves of blue crashed onto me too.
