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Ferry at Easdale
You hear it big and beastly first
as fast it sneaks the headland,
then grunts across your field or fishing, churning to a pause.

What happens next depends: pale
transients in bright coats shiver
and smile, content to leave these lives on colder shores.

Then all abroad the quayside
islanders fake bleak farewells,
blame late boats, early autumns in those tougher tongues.

It's a choice, a chance world
-wide or back in our own yards:

where to run, with whom, from what, or not
to be more than where you're better.

visit the author's website
read reviews of books by Will Daunt

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This page last updated: 12th February 2008.