I used to stand proudly on two frontiers, my insides gently warmed and tickled by the presence of people or the boats that could sail right inside me. I used to be important enough for kingly visits, for battles and sieges, for tournaments and festivals.
Now I stand miles behind a fortified wall and the sea long since left me with the silt that blocked my harbour up and retreated beyond the horizon. Now I am visited only by bleating sheep, mocking me further by entering unopposed and wearing crowns of hay.
Once I heard air vibrated by music and voices and the sea: a constant relaxing ebbing, nudging gently at my feet. Now just silence and wind except for the infernal bleating (I am sure the gulls once annoyed me just as much, but now their memory seems only sweet).
And I used to stand proud- did I say that already? My mind’s not as it was- and in a form complete, the way it should be. Each year new parts were planned or built; I was an ever hanging masterpiece.
And now walls that could repel cannon balls are undermined by roots and pushed through by vines and branches great and small. Each year more of me falls away- the only constant is I’m ever changing.
Now I stand miles behind a fortified wall and the sea long since left me with the silt that blocked my harbour up and retreated beyond the horizon. Now I am visited only by bleating sheep, mocking me further by entering unopposed and wearing crowns of hay.
Once I heard air vibrated by music and voices and the sea: a constant relaxing ebbing, nudging gently at my feet. Now just silence and wind except for the infernal bleating (I am sure the gulls once annoyed me just as much, but now their memory seems only sweet).
And I used to stand proud- did I say that already? My mind’s not as it was- and in a form complete, the way it should be. Each year new parts were planned or built; I was an ever hanging masterpiece.
And now walls that could repel cannon balls are undermined by roots and pushed through by vines and branches great and small. Each year more of me falls away- the only constant is I’m ever changing.
Written for entry in The Bridport Prize, 2012.
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