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Four old men, sitting in the corner,

Arguing about the R A F

Oblivious to the sea beyond the terrace,

Immersed in memories of what is left.

'Did you know that Johns was not a catain

And what about the oil that leaked away

While he was landing? Have you got the sugar?

Oh, please, no more chips today!'

Across the road, the wavelets turn in silence

Ruffled by the wind but not upset

Even by the centuries of blindness

Which pass for human influence and wit;

For they know that when these humans have passed on

This surf will still be singing its own song.

Brian Hick autumn 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 5.10.23