Night on the Island

i might move to an island far away from this hill.

if you have a boat, you will be able to visit.

i will make you tea, and give you a tour of the garden.


if you don't have a boat, you can wave to me from the shore.

i will stand on the island and wave back, if i see you standing there.

you can make a megaphone out of two empty cereal boxes and yell to me through it.

i will yell back by cupping my hands and projecting.

i don't know if we will understand each other.


if i do move to this island, i might come back.

but then again, ---

what if i grow to prefer it?

what if this marvellous hill becomes a dung heap in my mind,

and running and running i fling myself across the water to land in a wretched hudled heap on the island.

i was just kidding, i never wanted to leave in the first place



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