seascape
sometimes I want a bit of wind and wave
the rhythm of that white curl of crest
smell of battered wrack
the sting of salt and sand
air you feel and taste
pushing your limbs and locks
til you know you’re still embodied
your hair going matted by mist
just looking at the restless grey out there
tonight it’s come with purple puffs of cloud
twining beach pea in the small hump of dune
a skiff with orange sail racing the dark
and a beach I can’t find an end for
this is highly enjoyable
I whisper to myself
(a bit of an understatement)
& thank all the elements for
assembling themselves just so
yet again
