journal of a writing man
Work in Progress
The way to Withern
On the way to Withern
there was no time to stop,
pay my respects to the sea
savour the wave-washed air.
Returning, unhappy, porlocked,
feeling time lost and wasted,
I passed along the sea road
not thinking of the sea.
Out across the surf, free,
an albatross may have flown.
A good thought, though my burden
was too heavy for me to think it.
John Bailey
Lincolnshire, November 2004
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