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I.  The coming storm…

Looking into the distance along a windswept beach. Feeling the vast vault of alabaster sky. High! Feeling the cooling winds, as the waves crash and the clouds boil. 

The dark horizon grows as the lightning lances. I feel the coming tomorrows, the things best left undone, unseen, unknown. For I see them not but know the coming relentless like extinction at hand. A void at the end of all. Oblivion. 

II. A theory of memory…

I try as I might, to remember to resist to reside in history, a theory of memory. I try to keep all my imagery in boxes like photographs. I sit and look at each, remembering, tears, love, joy, or pain. 

I watch the sand roll as a sandcastle built once by me is washed away drifting through my fingertips. I feel a shadow cover me with a gentle sigh and echoes of a giggle a whisper of a kiss? 

III. Only alabaster sky…

Looking in your direction, nothing but sand dunes under an alabaster sky. I feel a hand on my shoulder and remember I left the radio in the car. You were to remind me but now no radio is at my side no car upon the dune only alabaster sky. 

I feel a little voice whispering daddy come, see and I turn to find only waves stretching to an alabaster sky. I watch the sea and feel its seams where something comes in darkness and lightning. Growing thunderheads. 

IV Cloudbust overhead…

I stand waiting for a cloud burst overhead I want to get my face wet its been buried in these hands for years. Cloud burst overhead. I feel myself weightless drifting overhead. 

Down these histories in a sea of tranquility and tragedies. Looking into the distance, along a windswept beach. Feeling the vast vault of the alabaster sky. High! Feeling the cooling winds, as the waves crash and the clouds boil. 

V. Coming tomorrows…

The dark horizon grows as the lightning lances. Waiting for a cloud burst overhead I feel the coming of tomorrow, the things best left undone, unseen, unknown. 

Forgotten. For all, I see them not as they are now but as they used to be. I know there is something coming relentlessly like extinction. Silent as oblivion. 
Languishing under…

An alabaster sky, 

High!
























My regards to Mr. T Dolby
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