Poem: A Quiet Day Near Manchester


A Quiet Day Near Manchester

It is not the sort of painting that makes you stop in your tracks.
You tend towards the abstract, all color and lines and imagination,
the stuff that makes people scratch their heads
and wonder why it makes them feel the way they feel.

But this, with it’s skybound perspective, tall cliffs and empty beaches,
with its hazy sky and the lightest fog, and gentle North Sea waves,
this stops you. It makes you sigh and stay, losing yourself for a time
fully aware of your need for nothingness,

to pour yourself out where no one is there to watch the bleeding,
or to try and save you. You do not need saving. You need emptying,
a release of the busy poisons that threaten your soul, and until then,
this painting will have to do. You can almost hear the waves.

About the poem

The painting is “A Quiet Day Near Manchester” by Alfred Thompson Bricher. It is everything my poem says it is. Sometimes, I just pull up my photograph of it and fill my screen, and seek peace until I can get to the ocean again.


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