On The Cliff top

   The exhaust crackled quietly
   The HK stood silent
   The hamper was brought out
   And domestic sounds came through the half open window

   As the sea crashed and surged
   Far below it slammed its source
   Against a black cliff face
   Worn smooth in parts
   By aeons of waves like this
   Sharp and gagged in others
   A living face renewed in the winter's storm

   Another living face peered at me through
   A back window - smeared with jammy fingers
   Waving childish hellos to strangers
   "Hello Man, we are going to the park" they said

   Tugged by the wind? I moved to the edge
   Far, far below it all looked - so easy
   I could reach out and have the power of aeons in my hands
   Further now, closer and closer to the edge

   She slammed the door, as I stood there
   "What are you doing?" she said
   Her arm in mine felt warm
   "Coffee's poured honey, come back"
   Tugged by another voice I returned
   To jammy faces and domestic sounds
   She sat close beside me as we drove home.


(C) Copyright September 1999
Ewan Elliott
All Rights Reserved