by Norman MacCaig
He picked up a pebble
and threw it into the sea.
And another, and another.
He couldn’t stop.
He wasn’t trying to fill the sea.
He wasn’t trying to empty the beach.
He was just throwing away,
nothing else but.
Like a kitten playing
he was practising for the future
when there’ll be so many things
he’ll want to throw away
if only his fingers will unclench
and let them go.
You knew so much about me. What I loved, what I hated, what inspired me or frightened me…. you even knew my different laughs for fucks sake… the only think you didn’t seem to pick up on was how I really felt about you.
It’s like coming home after a long trip. That’s what love is like. It’s like coming home.
every word i sang i meant