Background

York in Poetry: The Spirit of Bees

Posted on 25 November 2012 | Poem

No songs to listen to
it is a quiet day; not a breath of wind
no sound but the sound of the sea (which will never be silent
will never be anything but itself. Yes.
Some things do not change).

The sun holds court, warming itself and
heating the day with no sound
(but the sound of the sea, which will never be anything but itself.
Some things will not change).

No songs to listen to.
The quiet becomes angry.
There are no longer even echoes to remember
not a sound to bounce off trees and palms
nothing left to listen to.

The sun holds court, warming itself and our shoulders
and our palms and the sea
heating the day without a sound
no reflection of the noises which used to fill the moments
nothing left but the sea
no reflection of a memory or an echo
nothing left but us.

- Robin Lewis