The wind sparked the branch to fall to ground

Like umbrella, inside out on rainy day

Hark back to melancholy, dim surround

That starts a revelation from the turf

 

Dug whence it came, releasing secrets

Told to few that day or any other

Turmoil lost among the calmest creek

That swept the ocean further from the surf

 

Like emptiness, devoid of solace or surprise

Like seaweed, no longer a part of sea

Like a bullet from the rifleman’s alibi

Defending his parade

Of fellow soldiers, keen to see

Their home, by destiny’s decree

 

The wind harks back to melancholy

A revelation, placid, calm

The ocean’s in situ succour

Is the seaweed’s great surprise –

I look behind a time I know –

The branch falls, before my eyes.