The blooming
Is a prelude
To withering

XI

under the feet
the thrumb and hum
on board (at last)

waiting waiting
to be away
for the Isles
then the
cast off

the shove of movement
the rush of sea air
on the face
away (at last)

XII

within sight this pair
owning the island
of just rock probably
covered when the tide
is full under the moon
later tonight will they
sit until the rising
water makes them move
to landfall a swift flight
away

XIII

flowers and grasses
picked when the mist
held forth over the land
filling the glass
on the windowsill
Tonight they look out
across a quiet bay
their colours firm
in the golden sunset:
sky illuminating
embroidered clouds

XIV

on the dune bank
above the bay
sweeping towards
sky cloud-lit by
sunset glow azure
light pastel blue
pink near to orange
soft lines vaporing
colour towards the dark
sounds of sea near
and sea far across
the dunes sweeping
away from the view
the bay towards a
further sea no ocean
this far further still
further still

XV

Thirteen stones
on a hillside
describing a space
a five-minute
walk around
time to conjure
a very distant past
when the land
then wooded broke
the westerly wind

If only I was different,
Would I finally fit in,
If only I was what you wanted,
Would you love me,
If only I could understand,
Would you regard me as me,
If only I normal,
Could you let me live a normal life,
If only I was clean,
Would you reach out your hand,
If only I could be perfect,
Would you understand that I'm not,
If only I could find who I am,
Would you believe that I found me,
If only I left,
Would you realize what I felt,
If only I lived long enough,
Would you finally realize my potential,
What I could have been.