Between every few steps

He staggers

He rocks

He sways like a sail

Caught in a gentle breeze

Then says to me

You’re not from round here

Are you?

I nod in the affirmative

Wanting to move on

As he seeks to make conversation

His ship now stuck fast

Perhaps like his thoughts

Run aground

The after a moment’s thought

He confidently declares

‘You are from London aren’t you?’

The soft Irish brogue purred

I want to disagree

To put him right

To explain that I come from further south

Where the land meets the sea

But realise that he would not understand

And I want to allow us both to slip free from

Our moorings

And so say yes

He nods and a smile breaks

Across his face

‘You see I knew

I could tell

From the moment that you spoke

When I asked you for a light’

At last we are able to break free

Each one now

To plough his own separate course

Me with great relief

To wend my way home

Him to steer a course

Who knows where

Somewhere out there

In the great unknown