This is a poem I wrote 12 years ago after an earlier spell in hospital, for an operation to remove my prostate and its accompanying cancer. Not long afterwards my wife and I headed for the North Norfolk coast...
Knowing all of the night –
the dry, dry paths and piercing pain,
where the spirit is mysteriously absent
and strange breath is forced into sleeping mouths –
I find your big blue sky hard, like horses galloping
Yes, darkness fades, but fear remains
however bright the sun:
shafts of love splatter randomly
across artificial rocks
while kites run across the scorching sky
cutting the future into slices
too hot to hold
On the beach, stumps of ancient trees
criss-crossed with nails
carved by the soldier sea
And now the spirit spins down unexpected channels
surrounding me:
I am staked out, exposed
up to my neck and out of my depth
The tide slithers in: send no boat
or helicopter
This is where I belong:
the sweet salt waves washing bitter black desert away
I close my eyes,
but fail to dream