Phil Brown -  journalist . writer . poet

Phil Brown

journalist . writer . poet

articles . books . poems


by Phil Brown



Here she sits in a faded gown
On an old, inelegant chair,
Frayed and bending
Under the weight of a slow demise.

A blanket across her knees, head lolling:
The gentle sun's hand dares not
Lift her quiet features
To-confront them with the empty sea.

Inside her head
Are only the memories of memories
And faces crying-up
From the depths of life.

Alone she sits, nodding into the breeze,
Stranded by relatives long gone
Whose desertion cut her old heart
Like a secret knife.

Her ancient ignorance of all around
Seems bitter-sweet to me,
Younger, stronger, lover of the sea
Which is slowly draining
I Like the colour from her leaven cheek.


by Phil Brown

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Phil Brown - Arts Editor - weekly columnist - writer

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