.
CLOSE SEASON
They say it smells of dead holidays.
I say it always did. And out of season
was never the time to connect anything
with anything here, where you can only
wonder at the sea in all the shades
of grey on Richter’s palette, wonder
where the ice-cream vendors go
and if the deckchair man can really
hibernate in his cave beneath the cliff,
with his chairs, his memories of summer.
On the pier a salt breeze ruffles
a scrap of gaudy poster, and offshore,
somewhere close, a ship’s bell tolls
for something gone, for some thing .
———————————————————————————————————————————————-
Jeremy Page has edited The Frogmore Papers since 1983. His short stories have been published in magazines like Ambit, Citizen 32 and The Interpreter’s House, and he is the author of several collections of poems, most recently In and Out of the Dark Wood (HappenStance, 2010). His work has been translated into German and Romanian, and a selection of his poems was recently broadcast on Radio Romania Cultural in English and Romanian. His own translations of Catullus are published by Ashley Press as The Cost of All Desire. His play Loving Psyche was staged in Bremen in 2010.
Publications:
The Cost of All Desire: after Catullus (Ashley Press, 2011) available through good bookshops, from Skylark in Lewes, or by post (£5.00) from: The Frogmore Press, 21 Mildmay Road, Lewes BN7 1PJ.
In and Out of the Dark Wood (HappenStance Press, 2010) available from HappenStance (or through good bookshops)
The Alternative Version (Frogmore Press, 2001) available through good bookshops, from Skylark in Lewes, or by post (£4.95) from: The Frogmore Press, 21 Mildmay Road, Lewes BN7 1PJ.
Secret Dormitories (Crabflower Pamphlets, 1993) out of print
Bliss (Crabflower Pamphlets, 1989) out of print
Abegail Morley 
I’m so glad to have had the chance to read this poem – I can smell and inhale the spray from a winter sea, see the empty promenades and closed up carousels, etc. And feel a sense of loss – of childhood maybe, or that some thing.
I love:
….. wonder
where the ice-cream vendors go
and if the deckchair man can really
hibernate in his cave beneath the cliff,
with his chairs, his memories of summer.
There is a lot of pathos in closed up seaside resorts – it’s like hearing distant music and laughter and wondering if that was ever you.
Thanks for a great read.
Thanks for that, Valerie. I’m pleased the poem spoke to you in that way. And you’re spot on about closed up seaside resorts!
Loved it, this sense of nostalgia it gave me, the wondering, that ending of a season/period is fascinating. Wonderfully described.Last lines were very catching, brought the poem to a very fitting ending. Thank you Jeremy!
‘and offshore,
somewhere close, a ship’s bell tolls
for something gone, for some thing’
I’m glad you enjoyed this, Francine. Personally I’d recommend an out-of-season resort on the south coast to anyone – though this might not be obvious from the poem!
I love to go on holiday before and after the big rush, so it easier to grasp the ‘genus loci’ of places. And if you are an part-time misanthrope, like myself, well, this is the only solution:)
I’ve always loved Brighton,
off-season since playing panto here in 1954! –
This is very evocative,
Shirley Jaffe
Thanks, Shirley, I’m glad you think so – though more than one south coast resort inspired the poem. A close reading might reveal Margate and Folkestone as well as Brighton.
dear Jeremy,
it reminds me of beautiful days in Brigthon
with Alex and you
I embrace you
Brita Nickolaus
Certainly nostalgia and seaside resorts (especially out of season) seem to be comfortable bedfellows… Thanks for reading, Brita..