An Epicurean Poem ( about peace of mind)


A still, warm, and breathless tropical night,

Before the birds awake and fishes stir.

There is no breeze or whisper from the palms,

Only a gunmetal gloom and swish of waves

Gently shifting seaweed on the sand.

I lie on a hammock counting intervals

Between the flashing lights of marker buoys,

And watching the passage of a distant ship,

Lights blurred and blinking in the sea-fog.

As I sit there the dark morphs into misty grey,

And, herald of the day, a lonely fish

Skitters the water beneath the wooden jetty.

Robert Hanrott,  February 2006

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