I'm still here...

are you still there?

 

In the time that it takes to brush the cobwebs from the eyes

a world collides.

 

Images of night, bruises of day.

 

Peter Blake comes into Holt

on his touring bus;

the sixties have returned.

 

We enter a sandcastle competition

and create a dreamy landscape of

sand, pebbles, green and brown seaweed;

someone calls it 'the best in the competition'

but we don't win

and the sea washes it all away.

 

In another room

sounds of laughter

in the covers of warmth

in the sheets of love.

 

I open the lid

I look in the box:

deep in the darkness

a slight turn produces colour

a further turn sends shapes flying

flying, flying,

into that which is beyond:

dreams, hopes, memories.

 

Are you still there?