Friday, 12 December 2014

Parasol






Early autumn morning, the sun’s warmth’s strong
on the sands, a parasol’s on the ground -
keeled over months ago, its thatch partly torn;
it toppled quietly without any surround sound
and there was no-one to hear it, record
how and when a patch of thatch had come down
its shade rolled small.  The off season resort



abandoned like a dried up fountain, rimmed
with watermarks. The ocean whispers on.
There is one other tourist - the crowds thin
end of summer, the swimmers crush gone
back to city squares, graffiti, imagined
and real grievances, unemployment, phone
apps, power cuts, lives of grim, urban grins.






6 comments:

  1. HI Nila .. I'm sure life is like this for many ... while the thatch brolly waits to be repaired for next year ... and its next influx of fractious escaping urbanites ... cheers Hilary

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  2. Hi Nila. Reminds me of driving around country France in winter. The resorts look so sad...

    I wish you every good wish for the holiday season!

    Denise :)

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  3. Thanks @ Vandana

    It kind of flummoxes me that we so intensely need to escape our cities and so often. Life is much like the thatch brolly for too many people. @Hilary

    Thank you for the wishes @ Denise, most heartily reciprocated! Wishing you good health and great happiness.

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  4. Very evocative. Thanks for sharing:)

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