The Tuesday Poem: “from the hill”
from the hill
boats turn
at their moorings,
facing into the wind:
I can see every
shift in the weather
from up here,
she says, standing
at my shoulder —
the boats better
than any
weathervane…
we take our tea
out, onto a deck
made of timber
from old hulks
dredged out
of harbour mud,
she speaks
of the home to
which she does
not return, of the
much younger man
who will not let
her go — nor she him —
turns again to watch
the boats, talks
of a change
in the wind.
.
(c) Helen Lowe
first published in Takahe 62, 2007
—
When I reread this poem and realised that it is eight years since it was published, I thought it really was time I shared it with the world again—hence the Tuesday Poem slot today. 🙂
To read this week’s poem on the Tuesday Poem Hub, and other great poems featured by fellow Tuesday poets from around the world, click here.
Well, that was a lovely read. You seem to master the art of the “last line” yourself. The poem has left me more peaceful than I was when I started reading it.
Thank you, Rethabile. I am glad you enjoyed the poem.
I love it Helen – so glad you dug it out of retirement!
Thanks, Kathleen!