Driftwood by Stewart Carswell

Driftwood was washed ashore

shortly after the break-up:

rope, lobster pots,

some wood from a frame,

all scattered along the shoreline.

Months later,

the waves returned a plank

on the morning high tide

intact, immaculate.

In white letters on blue

was painted a name

I’d begun to forget,

a name that should not resurface:

Isabella

white letters on blue

like the crest of a wave

at the moment of breaking.

---

Stewart Carswell is from the Forest of Dean and currently lives in Cambridgeshire, where he helps to organise the Fen Speak open mic night. His poems have been published in Envoi, Ink Sweat & Tears, Algebra of Owls, and The Fenland Reed. His debut pamphlet is Knots and branches (Eyewear, 2016).

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