The earliest poem in the Blonde Sand collection...wayback in 1968 when I was, well, kind of younger in some ways, but older in other ways

Until all the etceteras



you are living alone this year
years are different
you are no longer silent when alone
alone is different

the years show life
to be peculiar
in learning of
age
love
wisdom
fault
strength
danger
guilt
etc
until all the etceteras form a neat line

on your way out
having had a gutful
of etceteras
you may notice
the simple play
of light on water

the harbours of it
the accident of it
and hold it
in your memory

as for a time
it will hold you
within its personal reflection

when time is different
when faces have changed
when
memories are held in the white mind
like ships in sand
with their treasure
and their slick intact.



John Fitzpatrick. 15 years old.