One day I think I may
put an old door and boards
there on the back porch
to hold out the westerly’s
voice of God in rain and gale
but it is cunning against thwart
and breaks from the south
faster than nail and will
hardier too in stone persistence
bringing the top edge of waves
salt and lash and flip of sea
silly silly man two legged decades
holding a tennis racquet
to circumnavigate the sun
better the wet forehead
fingers painted with soil
wet woollen encased sacrifice
research the lexicon of worms
blow your colours to the wall
that gainsay of oxygen relief
watch the magpie pivot
in a knowledge of toes
your limitations abound
James Walton Poetry 