A morning spent in the
amicably sedulous embrace
of Shelly Beach - rather
like returning to your roots, if
you get my meaning, and I believe
you’d really need suffer amnesia
t’ ever contemplate a possibility
that such articulate memories
could possibly be effaced -
how could I be remiss enough
t’ geriatrically jeopardise placement
of iconic imagery dated from my youth;
it is a place you’d never let depart
your conscience without a raw
sense of funereality - like the deaths
of those near and dear you;
and there was the irony, I hadn’t
been back for over a year
- It didn’t take Shelly Beach
long to remind me
© 31 July 2018, I. D. Carswell
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