Issue 9: Peter Carpenter (for Peter Robinson)
The Walk Outfor Peter Robinson at sixty
The Walk Out
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.