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I remember those summer days
simmering heat and coppery haze
Searching desperately in myriad bays
Remembering those languid, poignant memories...
Grandad whittling on the beach
Tongue protruding as he formed a knot
Into an eye, a nose, a wrinkle or a blot
On the landscape of a journey marred by pain and suffering
Everything slightly out of his grasp
Intensely concentrating while ignoring the noise
He listened and commented if he felt so moved
Words confirming a belief it was me he loved
Sun's rays warming the rocks
Our feet toughened to the pain and the clear cold
Crouched, looking searching
Pants rolled up to the knees
Rubbing the rocks between thumb and forefinger
Holding them up to the sun, the world reflected in misty swirls
His brow wrinkled, expecting to see God's eye staring back.
Poet: Mike Weddell |...........................| Photographer: Jack Van der Star
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