“Though lovers be lost, love shall not;
and Death shall have no Dominion.”
Dylan Thomas
Suite Ste. Luce
11-14 / 14
11
The beach compacts
smaller and smaller.
The tide jostles
sand pipers
into a dwindling world:
this shrinking pocket
handkerchief
of sand.
12
Happy the kite’s face
with its child
dangling far below.
Kite bounces up and down
on a tight-rope of air.
Below it, the child
walking the beach,
nose to the wind,
obedience on a leash.
The kite wags
its long, bright tail.
13
When the mist thickens,
it closes a window in the sky.
The church on the headland
steps plainly into sight,
and fades again.
The old man wraps himself
in a cloak of rain.
Suddenly, the sun
drapes itself,
a golden sou’wester,
over his head.
14
Summer lies abandoned
under rain-soaked umbrellas.
Red bucket, bright blue spade.
Childhood,
cast away:
a pair of sandals
on this cold, damp sand.
I like the ‘pocket handkerchief of sand’!
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Mary’s Point and dwindling!
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I smiled at the kite walking the boy, as well 😁
But I found much in:
“When the mist thickens,
it closes a window in the sky.
The church on the headland
steps plainly into sight,
and fades again….”
The visualisation was beautiful…then I considered that this sentiment might also apply to so much in life.
Pearl
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It does indeed. I took many photos over several summers of that church walking in and out of the mist. Ste. Luce-sur-mer (Quebec, Canada) is a really beautiful place in summer. It’s where the Empress of Ireland sank in 1914. I am thinking of putting the Empress poems up next. They are very different, but worth revisiting.
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I didn’t know this was the site of The Empress’ demise…I look forward to reading those.
I’ve only been in CA along Hwy…2(?)…on a trip from Connecticut to Minnesota with friends. They thought we would enjoy the route…and indeed we did, camping along the way. Going back to Canada, a bit more fully, has been on my bucket list since 1997!
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The Empress went down just below Pointe-au-Père (where the pilot got off) and was discovered about six miles off the beach at Ste. Luce. Needless to say, I fell in love with Canada when I first came here (1966).
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It is quite beautiful, even the limited view we got of it. It will probably turn out that I hop on my motor-scooter and check the “Return to Canada” trip off my bucket list, all by myself! My final solo camping trip!!
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That will be a great adventure. Come East, Young Fossil, the Maritimes await you. Seriously: Halifax, NS, opens up Cape Breton, NS, PEI, New Brunswick, and the province of Quebec, not to mention the NE USA. Much of this territory is little known to tourists, especially those who hit the big cities.
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(he called me a young fossil😁)
My idea of vacation is definitely not the cities. Give me sun, sky, mountains and shorelines, people who know how to breathe, work, care and smile…or cry…and are not afraid to invest all of that in themselves.
That kind of peace and contentment.
That’s a vacation. That’s the kind of retreat that I miss – that I’ve not had in nearly 20 years.
All points north to Canada…but first a visit to New England in our NE. Oh, and GB. Definitely. Bucket List. Yep!
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I can’t work out if this is a GRRRR! Or a smile! I hope it’s the latter. So: where are you located? If you can get up here by scooter with no air lifts, that’s very different. PS Okay — I found it — it’s a big grin!!!!
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(chuckling heartily) Way back when, we crossed over the border into CA about 25-50 miles from Niagra Falls. I don’t have my map in front of me but I’m thinking Quebec is east of there?
About 8 yrs ago, before retirement, I was thinking of saving for the trip up there and realized I-75 goes straight up to the end of Michigan (to Ontario, right?)…..I live 15 mins from I-75! It’ll take a little while but I could walk and never get lost!
Heck, it’s only a couple of thousand miles or 3!!😄😄😄
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Canada is an immense country. Niagara Falls is still in Eastern Canada. We (NB) are 1600 kms from Toronto (traveling west): still Eastern Canada, not to mention 800 kms or more back east to Newfoundland.
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So what you’re saying is that, no matter where you go, there you are…
…in Eastern Canada!
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Reblogged this on The Old Fossil Writes and commented:
(…such lovely images in my mind right now…)
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Thank you so much: I feel very privileged. So glad you like the poem and its images. I love the sea-side in the mist.
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I’ve been wandering around your site and stopped at the Edge of Obsidian; Room in my Mind, 6…and as much as I felt like I was there in Oaxaca, I couldn’t stop thinking about…well…let’s just say I’ll never look at a 3-minute egg the same, ever again!
And I thought referring to an egg as ‘liquid chicken’ was unique!!!😁😄😄
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Le soleil se couche dans son sang qui s’écoule … Baudelaire (from memory … it might be .. qui se fige …), the sun sets in its congealing blood. Somehow, it always struck me as a fried egg dying on the horizon! In Spain, eggs are sometimes called ‘young chickens’.
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The horizon swallows its young chicken whole! My first, late husband used to do that with his, as well!😄
(i always try to read the non-english before checking translations, just to see how well i remember my youthful exposure to 2nd/3rd languages. i’m pleased to state that “s’ecoule” was the only word to stump me, right there!!😁)
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‘Old man wrapped in a cloak of rain.’ You took me back to the Lake District, and I immediately thought of ‘Coniston Old Man’, the peak above Coniston village. It was often wrapped in rain and mist.
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It’s amazing how metaphor can link us back to our own moments and memories. The Old Man of the Mountains, wrapped in his cloak of cloud … it’s a question of savoring them and letting them lead you where they will. Sometimes, we follow, helpless in our mind’s involvement.
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Just a comment of interest. Beatrix Potter created her children’s stories in that same area. Or so I have been persuaded to believe. I’ll have to look her up on the internet now.
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Beatrix Potter, Near Sawrey, Esthwaite Water, between Coniston and Windermere.
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It’s amazing how nature can inspire us. I have walked the landscapes in Old Castille where saints and mystics were raised … it’s easy to see how they were influenced by the land: paisaje tan triste que tiene alma / a land so sad that it has a soul (Antonio Machado).
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Happy the kite’s face
with its child
dangling far below.
Beautiful perspective! That put a huge smile on my face.
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I love that line. Also “the kite wags its long, bright tail.” It’s like taking a paper dog for a walk, only it’s above you, not below you. Thanks for commenting.
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