Where the road turns and heads for the quay
music leaks out of the church,
through the ruined arches
Noah and the dove watch it
flood and fall back,
cellos marching past the waterfall
of the flute,
one orchestra against another
The mystery of the music spans centuries
and the castle, off to one side,
hears it too
Notes and scales drift out into the wrecks of buildings
that punctuate the Ness,
abandoned after the war,
waiting for artists to roll the stones away
and resurrect some kind of beauty
Eventually the magic fades:
small boats jog lightly in the harbour
regardless
- Written after a visit to Orford, in Suffolk