The ghosts in my head



I can’t for the life of me remember
if I dream in colour or in black and white.

I can recall the shawl she wore
that August night as we held hands
and walked among the kelp that was
flung upon the shore by the tide that
waits for no man,

she never waited for me
because
I went off to sea to seek
my fortune
not seeing
that my fortune stood in
front of me,

© 2020, John Smallshaw.