Cambridge Is A Sea. A Letter To You


Lost you in the tide the other day
the city’s not near no more.
Church bells woke me this morning
same with the sirens’ call.

High tide rose to leave nothing but wave white
on gray white walls.
Splash back into the sea for the timeless change
of rise and fall.

Low tide left debris on the beach,
washed up jackets strung along the ridge
in a chase-me-now line of fabric and fur:
we lie amongst the sand warm, bare.

Found you in the city the other day
‘cos we’re nearer than we thought,
turn right and you’re there down the hall
under blanket, behind locked door.



p.s
leaves don’t fall into pockets,
unless picked up and placed there
as a potential long term possession.