In the background
The pastel sea is calm
Speckled with white sailed boats.
In the foreground
Rough waves scourge the rocks
With turbulent whips of salt.
Two lone men walk the narrow path
Between the broken cliff face and the sea.
They are separated by a gulf in time
At least a century wide,
Unbridgeable to them,
But to me - visible in a single glance.
The cliff face towering high above their heads
Appears to have been gouged by giant claws,
Or the teeth of dragons fighting for their lives.
There is only the slightest breeze this evening,
Just enough to keep the boats in motion.
September paleness,
The sea a pastel blue
That I have only seen in films and fading dreams,
And the sky is split into three shelf like layers,
Indigo - Duck Egg Blue - a misty shade of Orange.
The darkest colour - a thick band at the top of the page.
The distant shoreline seems blurred and indistinct,
A smudge of green indicating hills
With perhaps a town or two.
And high above all, transparent in the orange light,
Mount Fuji stands, a god without a conscience,
An ice cold Buddha keeping all his secrets,
Sketched with three thin lines of printers ink.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
September 24th. 2021.
Poem No.9, Month of September, ref my calendar illustrated by Hiroshige prints.
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