Kathy

Clattered steps in the evening, your steps echoing to a beat, bowing to an Atlantic breeze, other times a struggled moan, before a fretful swollen sea, a drumming racket all along, a wish, more than any dream, how different is my memory, I mean, does it trick me, with the smell of ozone, arriving from the Hebrides, laughter singing in every bone, our name is a scream, above a front door gently, what do you really believe, like an arriving boat, no one needs, your slouch towards home, a broken wheel.