Sure it’s meant
to be abstracted at some level.
Unarguably,
you’re involved — the
whole shebang. If I wrote
‘beach’ or ‘sun’ for inst.
tho you’ve walked
some similar season,
it is never quite…
Yet somehow this (winter bright shore gulls wind wheeling)
particular
insists.
Image: Acrobats, Sydney, 1930s / Sam Hood, c/- State Library of NSW. A quadrille (a 44 word poem) written for Dverse, the poet’s pub – where Grace is hosting the bar’s 8th anniversary.
And for no particular reason, here’s Sarah Davachi with Pale Bloom (great music to write to)
Peter Frankis writes 
I’m so delighted to read your work again. Hope all is well with you.
LikeLike
Thanks Misky, it’s entirely mutual. Aside from winter and aching bones and intimations of mortality, all good here. P
LikeLiked by 1 person
We can’t hope for much more than that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s all in the detail—that is almost overlooked.
LikeLike
Excellent write Peter. I was held attentive through the read, thank you for sharing this! 🙂 Love the photo! 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks Rob, glad you liked it.
LikeLike
Sending you some sunshine from my part of the world to yours. Thanks for sharing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ditto, Peter, good to be reading your work, and for myself, I think better intimations of mortality than unsubtle threats from the collectors of life’s debt. Funny thing– I was just listening to “Ain’t no sunshine (when she’s gone)” and somehow it keyed in with this fascinating piece; other interpretations possible. As always.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Steve – glad you liked it. (I’ll have to re-listen to Bill Withers). Peter
LikeLiked by 1 person