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The south bank of the river seems as far

As Holy Isle across the strand, but I

Am back in Southend where the memories jar

Against the traffic noise.  For though the sky

is deep as any that we saw up north

And the evening breeze upon the sea

As crisp, the something missing from it all

Is the Spirit which has set it free.

Surrounded by oil terminals and shops

Eternal roads to nowhere, endless streets

Of cash-fixated types content to hop

Between the pub and someone else's sheets

Your silence, Cuthbert, shouts out to my heart

And calls me to a life that's set apart.

Brian Hick October 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 6.11.23