Of late, we’ve been up to the gills with things maritime. So we’ve gone back to one of our old passions: reading poetry (Pablo Neruda and Seamus Heaney, in particular) whilst sipping a cup of strong, home-brewed coffee. One of these days we’ll probably try our hand again at writing poems. Meanwhile, here’s one we wrote many years ago. Interpret it as you like. The poem could be about anything – love, a bygone era, homeland or, if you’re hopelessly mired in things maritime, global warming and sustainable shipping.
HARVEST
Shall I pledge my soul
for your withering bough?
From your tender head
grace of former season’s gone:
Fruit of this season droops
falls in a widowing sun
Nor breeds furtherance
of its own passion forgets how:
I grieve for the golden seed
fetus of a golden dream.
Shall it resume that ancient rhyme
that more fecund theme?
~Barista Uno
