What light across the cloudless bay

Falls placid on thy peerless face

Relected on the now calm sea?

That in its rage did toss in

Tidal abandon the wreckage

Of the human condition cast

Recklessly from the shore.

 

Do not despair nor fling thy dreams

From this vapid spit which clings by

Wiry Marram to this wretched

Isle, detritus ringed on littoral

Margin, a reminder of the 

Faded fragments of regret that

Stubbornly degrade to return 

On the surge of each spring tide. 

 

The salty air may dry my skin

And flotsam cut my feet, the plastic

Drift and netting frayed, bleached and

Brittle as the memory that 

Brought me here to stand beacon against

The gathering mist. Mine eyes are

Blue but there is no sky

Only grey-green depths which fix

Hard upon me dampening as 

The light fades. 

 

And deeper still beside this

Quickening tide, eternal gyre

Cantankerous and old, you hold

Me in your wondrous gaze

Immense and hard and dark as the 

Rock which breaks the wave to

Vaporous beads to coalesce

Upon our skin which warms with your

Touch guiding us over the

Sculpted dunes to shelter from the 

Darkening brume.