You are in the company of others now,
beyond me,
and your confident voice
casts nets entwining them
in the bonds of return.
From the headland
you left far behind
I stand, an empty coat
lifted to the sea,
and far off I breath
the joyous dancing spray
of your being.
But the mists have
erased the clouds
and the white gulls
have fled with the sea.
Over there they have you,
and your bright laugh,
like an infinite wave
that I turned from
in search of my beached sadness,
now plunges other men
backwards into
the surf of your wild arrivals,
where they bathe
strong and virile
under the unappeasable breakers
of your eyes.
 Copyright Ricky Barrow 2014