11th December 2021
December Sun:
After gloomy rafter-creaking days
Inspiring, restoring.
December Sun,
Somehow recalling
The girl I longed to know when I was young.
Breakfast ended, there at the window silently asking
In that smile,
‘Surely you’re not staying in?’
December Sun beside me, I stride sky-puddled lanes
(Grey-eyed she was, quiet, learning-thirsty,
Steady stance truing
That she always cared to listen well).
December Sun leading me, north wind at back,
Along the ebbwhisk strand –
As if they hauled, each, on a gladly reaching warm-gloved hand.
December Sun, flash-spraying the sea’s leaps,
Greening each wave to catseye brilliance.
December Sun’s siren whisper: ‘You must, surely…?’
And so a swim, with this star
My companion, friend, conspirator:
I feel us breathe together.
After, where tall-reefing bedrock shelters,
Skylow heat of December Sun upon my skin.
If only once,
One sea-salted hug…
Old now,
In some ways more sentimental than ever,
A voice inside each day loud speaks
The symptoms of human timepassing’s disease:
Ifonlyitis.
Perhaps I too easily console myself
With neverwhen recollections: in truth, we only spoke twice.
Nothing imagined, at least, about
The uplift of December Sun.
© Christopher Jessop 2021
