This is the last poem in ‘Rough Spun to Close Weave’.
Shackleton’s Grave
(A Wish)
There will be peace and an end to traveling,
the colour of ocean under a polar sky,
solid as mountains, to bear the brunt
of storms that can no longer trouble
the sleeper in the wind-raked earth.
Time will be glacial, patient as icebergs
where no rumours whisper, no duty calls,
the strong heartbeat of spring and its flowers:
the tides’ turn, the snow’s fall.
(Liam Guilar)
'Rough spun to Close Weave' is available from online book sellers. Signed copies are available from the shop at www.liamguilar.com