Romancing the stone
Grey matter. The colour of our existence, grounds our limbs as we scavenge for pieces of Derek to take home. Lily finds one with a hole through to the other side. On the other side of Prospect cottage an England flag withers in the wind.
We turn away, facing the sun. Clutching its golden dew as it bids us goodbye.
The greys, browns and pastel greens sink us as I share stories of ‘Blue:’ Denim jeans around ankles and delphiniums upon graves fill our hearts as other pilgrims skirt past. ‘My lips two blushing pilgrims ready stand.’ Romeo was banished here, his face glowing gold in the same way as Jodie’s does now. Piercing blue staring back at my own.
Beth’s bones sink into the grey as she anxiously scrawls, capturing every drop of time passing. I drop all of Lily’s stones back into the khaki abyss. Lost treasures that Beth won’t let me forget.
Caked in cagouls, chroma under my arm, out we strode, some of us straight some of us not, to this stretch of land kissing sea, to honour and thank dear Derek.
We are full of prospect.
We turn away, facing the sun. Clutching its golden dew as it bids us goodbye.
The greys, browns and pastel greens sink us as I share stories of ‘Blue:’ Denim jeans around ankles and delphiniums upon graves fill our hearts as other pilgrims skirt past. ‘My lips two blushing pilgrims ready stand.’ Romeo was banished here, his face glowing gold in the same way as Jodie’s does now. Piercing blue staring back at my own.
Beth’s bones sink into the grey as she anxiously scrawls, capturing every drop of time passing. I drop all of Lily’s stones back into the khaki abyss. Lost treasures that Beth won’t let me forget.
Caked in cagouls, chroma under my arm, out we strode, some of us straight some of us not, to this stretch of land kissing sea, to honour and thank dear Derek.
We are full of prospect.
