Lands End

               LANDS END

               The island cries
               Its tears are lost
               in the spray of the racing surf
               The rock hurts
               Pain penetrates each stratum
               The gas is low
               The kettle boils but slowly
               Cove and Cape concentrate the anger of rain
               Water persists in clouds
               In the morning of Good Friday
               the sun celebrates silence
               Early risers chew noisily
               on hot-cross-buns
               It is silly to talk of islands
               that do not cry
               or of rocks that feel no pain
               On the edge
               no man is untouched
               Behind all showers
               a rainbow hides

              © GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Sennen, 20th April 1985

Publications

1985 Pennine Platform (UK)
1986 FUTURES (Ipswich, Magic Pen Press)
1990 Spider Eyes (USA)
1993 Dial 174 (UK)
1999 Black Creek Review (USA)