To Be Away

In the hurly burly
Of the celebration,
The loud and active noiseness
Of the pub,
I feel the lightest touch 
Of fingers on my wrist
Urgent to be away,
To slip the fetters
Of the here and now,
To take my leave
Of  sense and feather lightness
And the kisses on my cheek
The clasp of the embrace
The calling in the dark. 
I gather up my coat,
Turn my collar to the wind
And with a sidelong glance 
Walk towards the shore.

JL June 5 12:08