Wish You Were Here

as I rise
from car comfort
to the dark cloud drenching
to the boarded and battered shack sheltering
coke can tacky tap tin tapping
an upbeat rhythm for a sombre song

the rain crackles
like damp electric fire
on the surface of my umbrella
your umbrella
the one you held
in warm hands
in cold English weather

and I cross
the glass splattered car park
past Knightstone and Welbeck
and the Stowaway's Bar
climbing Coach Tour tracks
to Westcliffe
and the sea

and all I can think is
I wish you were here