I remember the lick of salt on my skin. Lemon poppy-seed cake. A clear, clean, endless beach. Cold sparkling.
I remember the dark coming down and the mist gathering on the hill as we walked. Too far to turn back. Not far enough to be there yet.
I remember the song he sang as he sat on his own at the back of the bus.
I remember the coconut scented gorse and the larks in the impossible blue.
I remember the slide down, skewwhiff and juddering. No end in sight. Into the black.
I remember the quiet place. I wish for it now. Some carry theirs with them. Too heavy for me to manage with all I have with me. Carry it through, set it down lightly, there on the sideboard in the front room. Too fragile to look at. If you drop it you’re done for.
I remember, I forgot something important. Scry and scrape, but it’s illusive and gone. Will you help me find it?
This is a piece of free writing I did at a workshop I attended yesterday. We were tremendously lucky to have the poet and author Alan Spence lead the workshop - which was inspiring and thought provoking.