The Hillwalker’s Excuse
It was a gift;
this tropical island.A sun-soaked spit
lapped by clouds,that hid the rest
of the Sugar Loaf Hill,
the surrounding valleys of working Wales.It was this gift;
that stripped my shyness.I took the chance to dry my clothes.
I adamed around
my tiny Eden
trusting in
the warming sky.I guess I slept;
my gortex rustling,
palm leaves in an onshore breeze.
The rising tide eventually woke meand I sunk, a stone, in closing cloud
down the hillside, through the rain
to search in vain for after-sun
on the leaf-sluiced streets of Abergavenny
Copyright © Gavin Stewart 1996-2006
Website http://www.gavinstewart.net
E-mail: Send an e-mail to the
author