Sultana Point
April 1990

we skirted the edge of the continent
a family strung out along the beach
- you lurched ahead into the wind
ignored the sand as it whipped your face

while I lagged behind with the kids
played the clown with my camera
snapped at smiles, as though all were normal
tried to capture everything, before it fell apart

we assembled for a last family shot
- there was always going to be one of us left out
in the end I took the picture, but you were the one absent
your eyes averted, already exploring other shores

Graham Catt

If you've any comments on this poem,Graham Catt would be pleased to hear from you.