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Spring 2005 Poetry Competition Second Prize

Pebbles

Jacqueline Davitt

jakki@davitt234445.freeserve.co.uk

 

I still have the pebbles,

lined up on my desk between telephone and in-tray.

Mostly forgotten, but sometimes I touch them

and feel the memories.

 

This stone - smooth and rounded,

pale grey and rippled rusty brown.

Two shades darker than your arms had turned to

on a Cretan beach.

 

The second - butter yellow,

warmed by love and Lefkan sunshine.

As precious as a flawless diamond

and your longed-for return.

 

Its neighbour - opalescent,

on fire with reds and jealous greens.

Torn from the side of Mount Olympus

Whilst passions raged.

 

The next - all jagged sharpness,

shot through with spurious gold.

Shimmering like the burning sands of Thassos,

or a fool's delusion.

 

The dark one - almost black,

spewed from the jaws of Santorini.

Symbolic of your cooling passion,

and metamorphic heart.

 

Then finally - the after thought.

This cowardly valediction.

A hailstone of Parian marble;

an icy goodbye.

 

I still have the pebbles:

She still has you.

 

 ©2005 Jacqueline Davitt

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