The dog and I are just back from our walk and it’s fairly chilly out there! It’s making me a little nostalgic for all the lovely sunshine I enjoyed this summer. I’ve been indulging myself and looking at some of my holidays snaps but it’s the poem Patagonia by the Scottish writer Kate Clanchy which best brings back memories of this summer past. It was featured in the July wedding of a good friend and her mother’s delivery of it had us all in tears. Such a lovely warm memory.
I said perhaps Patagonia, and pictured
a peninsula, wide enough
for a couple of ladderback chairs
to wobble on at high tide. I thought
of us in breathless cold, facing
a horizon round as a coin, looped
in a cat’s cradle strung by gulls
from sea to sun. I planned to wait
till the waves had bored themselves
to sleep, till the last clinging barnacles,
growing worried in the hush,
had paddled off in tiny coracles, till
those restless birds, your actor’s hands,
had dropped slack into your lap,
until you’d turned, at last, to me.
When I spoke of Patagonia, I meant
skies all empty aching blue. I meant
years. I meant all of them with you.