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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.
Published by Owen Tilley
Written by Owen Tilley
5 years ago 
