Separation (Poetry)

Everywhere is a long way from here —
no place is near —
no light touches, is shared
by hills, rooftops or trees —
all is separated out and kept
at a discrete distance.

Only shadows move —
imperceptible, the shift
a fraction to the left
but nothing changes how the shapes
still sit — lean while colour drains
with age and failing sight —
how day drifts into night
like a remorseless tide that won’t be turned
from the beach that lures it on.

And the voices of the waves
keep their wisdom hidden deep
so no one is saved —
hushed unmercifully to sleep —
we all die suddenly, alone
and the view lies narrow here —
the dark’s a box I fear
I can’t climb out of.