a scour of waves in the afternoon wind
the bright hard at our faces
everything
the words fall away
until there is only light
then not even that.
Image: Picnickers at Wollongong City Beach (then known as South Beach) with Coniston Beach and Port Kembla Steelworks in background, 9 November, 1982. c/- Wollongong Public Library . A jisei is a ‘death poem’ in Japanese/East Asian tradition. Jisei tend to offer a reflection on death—both in general and concerning the imminent death of the author (in this case imagined – touch-wood🤞)—that is often coupled with a meaningful observation on life. Frank is hosting the bar at dverse asks us to write a jisei to celebrate the onset of the northern winter.
And here’s the wonderful Gillian Welch with Hard Times.
Peter Frankis writes 
Fantastic death poem, Peter. The gulls too, so appropriate for the spiritual side, the smoking chimneys for the practical.
Is the photo really 1982? I’d have guessed 1962!
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Yes I thought it was older – but that’s all the info the library had on it. It’s a fab photo isn’t it?
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It is! So full of images, things going on.
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I agree with Jane about the age of the photo. But the chill is timeless. Your words add a stilled beauty to the chill. (K)
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Excellent choice of image; a photo that floats around like seagulls, long after time forgets the moment.
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‘A scour of waves’ and ‘bright hard’ – this is a remarkably unsentimental death poem and all the more impactful because of that.
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The end with the light and then not even that really feels like death… a bit detached in the same way as in Camus’ the stranger.
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There is a pinch of Sartre and existentialism in this brief ride (which is analogous to life)
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Fade and fade and fade until…jisei perfection.
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This is amazing, Peter, and absolutely breathtaking.
“the words fall away
until there is only light
then not even that.”
I gasped at the final line–just something to it about the fading and reverberations of death, until truly there is nothing left. Brilliant poem, I’m in awe.
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Fade to black! Well written peter, it holds the essence of dying.
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your words reflect that amazing photo!
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Wow. Well done. The structure of the poem add to the sense of the falling away of the words.
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“the words fall away” — This fits so well for a moment that will not be changed, no matter what.
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Literally breath-taking. I sit in awe!
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I love the shape of this poem, Peter, the way it fades with the light at the end, and the phrase ‘a scour of waves in the afternoon wind’ creates a vivid image with sounds. The photo is the perfect illustration.
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“the bright hard on our faces” is one of those phrases I wish I’d writtten, it so perfectly captures that feeling
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Thanks so much – glad it worked for you.
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“a bright hard at our faces” – Wow. The powerful force of that phrase alone makes the finality of death and loss that much more shocking. Just brilliant.
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the closing of the light into the dark night! Well done Peter!
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It’s amazing we don’t really know what death is until it’s here. This is wonderful Peter.
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Wonderful poem–the words fall away. . .and I agree with others about the photo.It’s perfect, and it does seem like it’s older.
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So good, like staring a the sun till your eyes hurt. Great pairing of words and image.
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Yes – you have captured something here that is so hard to put into words. I really like this Jisei
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Thanks Suzanne, glad you ‘liked’ if that’s the right word.
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