I’ve seen the ruins of Machu Picchu,
As an Andes sun rose above the mist,
Such a gift to rhyme it with in situ,
For in situ memories are never quite lost.
I’ve stood in wonder before the Taj Mahal,
Heard Moroccan mullahs call to prayer,
I’ve walked the Brooklyn Bridge to Broadway,
And listen, chum, you needed to be there.
There’ll be other grand places to visit,
To Rough Guide it to fountain, church or steps,
But it’s not disingenuous or is it,
To make a claim for smaller, humbler schleps?
That shingle beach silvered on a winter’s day,
Old man sitting by an East Yorkshire sea.
James Nash © 2016