The Walk Out


for Peter Robinson at sixty


The very last of October and blackberries

still there, edible, past barbed wire coiling

from fence-posts in diminishing concentrics   

and it’s cumulus that’s built up a case  

over an old haunt, the beach at Walberswick.

We are left to imagine it -- the tide angling

into gradations of pebbles, staggered groynes.

Verticals in flat-lands play such funny tricks


so let’s keep our heads down, take in bracken,

its fish-spine patterns, ivy over flint, hacked-at

nettles spring-green, resurgent, a sign for ‘loose

recyclables only’. On this ‘characteristic’ open

heath we might catch silver studded blue butterflies,

and, later on, there’s the strong chance of stargazing.


Copyright © 2012 by Peter Carpenter, all rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of Copyright law. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the notification of the journal and consent of the author.