Ivan Donn Carswell Poems

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And the Piper dreams as he pipes up in his mind
colours in choral horizons distant, of courtliness dimmed in time,
at the puddling waters edge he stands spread square and neat
and blows a lambent dirge, a frisson to the hatchling-surf
sundering and dying at his sandy feet.
Into the bile green sea he chants and drones atonic rhyme
for the seaward swells which bow and sway and pay no mind
to the grandeur of the piper's tune.
The sleepy listener creams and churns
reluctant in his notes entreating flight, resistant to solitary tunes.
A metronome, his heart keeps time and pulses
with the echoes of the cliffs behind
and scented air's accompaniment,
he is alone in his lament.
© I.D. Carswell

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