NaPoWriMo: Premeditated nostalgia

mistyriver1.jpg

 

I shall miss

This,

The damp spring smell,

Heavy salt swell,

Of the ebb tide,

Where white gulls ride

Their dead wood rafts to the sea.

Though I shall be,

By and by,

Far from this broad sky,

Black-flecked with cormorants’ wings,

And the poplars where the robin sings.

Still I will keep,

In waking and in sleep,

The image of this, my river flowing,

In the foreign place where I am going.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

12 thoughts on “NaPoWriMo: Premeditated nostalgia”

  1. The imagey here is quite lovely. I especially liked this line “Where white gulls ride
    Their dead wood rafts to the sea.” Having recently returned from two months in St. George’s, Bermuda — in a rental apartment with a deck that overlooked the harbor of aquamarine waters and occasionally blowing storms — I especially relate to the voiced decision to keep this beautiful place within the memory.
    So glad I found your site.

  2. Beautiful, Jane. I’ve done this–been a situation where I’ve said I’m going to remember this, but you’ve said it so well. I love the dreamy photo, too.

    1. That morning I met quite a few dog-walkers and they all commented on how lovely the mist on the river was. That’s what I like about dog-walkers, they notice things like that and talk about it. I’ll miss them too 🙂

      1. The river will be the same but they’re country folk. I don’t think they take their dogs for walks. I think we’ll have to get another dog and they can take themselves for walks 🙂

  3. I hated this poem. Not because it wasn’t well written- it was. Not because it wasn’t full of glorious imagery- it is, but because it sounded almost like the goodbye of a good friend. In a bout of self pity I find I don’t want to, can’ afford to lose any more friends.
    xxx Hugs Galore xxx

    1. I’m sorry, David. The sad things in life are the ones that stick under the skin far longer than the happy ones. Any goodbye is a turning of the page. Doesn’t matter if it’s to a place or a loved one. It hit me yesterday morning that there are no goodbyes without regrets and a few tears.

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