Future

Now look up less often
At the drop of a leaf
To see her at the door —
No more empty sighing
Play back life less frequently —
The voice of the sea is not only hers.

But silent words still flow
For a coda — a sign
To live to sigh to love — ?
And hung on questioning
Hooked on the thread of truth
Breathe and move to the fret of the barb.

All for nothing for all —
One jigsaw piece
Of seascape whose shoreline
Is over the horizon —
Reach to the patterns edge
And die a foetus curled in a query.

Mark Richards.