Saturday 14 January 2023

Sterling Silver Starlight

 


Sterling silver starlight
dappled the limpid lake waters
as we sat on the sand beside it
chatting and laughing about innocuous things.

When we were young.

Then you mentioned Janice Westbury,
I'll never forget that moment.
You said that she was so fine and that you
would like her to be in your family.

Something shattered inside me,
I bowed my head and hugged my knees.
You saw my sadness and chuckled,
I thought I'd die.

Then you put your arm around my shoulders,
pulled me closer and said
that you wanted to set her up with your brother
because they'd be a perfect match.

We were young.

Five years later, we sat with our first-born child
on the same stretch of sand
the day after a storm and debris was all around.
We sang folk songs and lullabies.

Ten years later,
there were five of us on the beach.
It had eroded from a series of wild storms,
but we still had a fire and we sang.

We were not as young.

Another ten years passed and we sat alone
on our beach.
The children being older and away with friends.
We were glad to be together and at peace.

And then twenty years passed so quickly.
The lake was turgid with high waves,
We spoke of many things,
preparing ourselves,
should one leave before the other.

We were no longer young.

And then the day came that you were gone.
I sat alone on the beach
looking up at the sterling silver starlight,
knowing you were there.

©Ellen Pepper 2023

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