The elephant followed the trail, through the wet forest, across the scrub, along the dry river, over the dunes to the palms,
And through the palms, he arrived at the appointed place, where the sand meets water,
And he stood on the shore and faced the sea, and he rumbled and waited,
he rumbled and waited for the song from the ocean,
And the answer came, like a silent calling, the voice of the whale echoing distractedly of the endlessness of tides and isolation.
And the elephant roared of the repetition of footsteps and the heat of the sand in the air.
And when her sound changed, she could no longer entertain, she must swim away,
So he trumpeted and watched her tiny form disappear, dancing with the waves,
And he too turned, walking slowly back, through the desert, back through the forests, to the plains,
To the place of small pools and lost rivers which give life,
And found the shade of a tree and waited for night
To embolden different living things.
I've had many short stories, poems, and articles published, and a book '‘Dancing In the Waves'’ [Mer 1998].For ten years I was editor of ‘Screenwriter magazine.
Ihave run European writing workshops and lead the MA Screenwriting programme at Birkbeck College,, London University.I founded and am on the board of Euroscript, the UK's premier independent script training company.My full profile is on www.paulgallagher.eu
Latest posts by Paul Gallagher (see all)
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