Image: Byron Bay Lighthouse Laurie Smith
Jagged memories are what I have
My life a series of non-events.
Holidays spent on sublime coastlines
Beaches with beckoning vistas
Seductive moments when eyes met eyes
The possibility of the impossible.
When far from home
Anything seemed plausible.
The girl from the country
Who sat herself down beside me
Played coyly in the sand at my feet
Who hung on my words
Later we wrote letters back and forth
And then nothing.
Each holiday bought its own adventure
My heart won by the girl who stripped naked
Whose breasts called to me
And foolishly I answered
To be rebuffed, ridiculed,
Immaturity they said is such a curse.
Recollections fade over time
The fishing trips, the escape with mates
One Mile Beach in a caravan
Mates together, idle days
Two girls from the city
Like us seeking playtime
But out of my depth
My fumbling speech and action going nowhere.
To the girl who one night lay beside me
We engaged in conversation
Later to find she was disappointed
I repeated that many times I fear
On holidays now washed clean with time.