SEAS.
Bare feet on the sand.
Cold sea-water,
white shanks belching
out of the slick havoc,
confides over them noisily,
the tide's breath
and twists of water
stepping from the sea.
Staring out of the world.
The deep, audacious sky
stays put
where someone outside
drew a line around the world.
Its cold edges trickle over my mind,
in a moment of immense time,
embracing me with false colour,
and depth boasting its loud head off.
Then the water breaks its spine.
And I watch it
slide back
breathlessly into the sea's gullet.
Poem by Alex: October 1971 Copyright
Wow, what a poem, and photo. Hope Chris is doing well.
ReplyDeleteThankyou you for your comments Sandy, glad you like Alex's poems. Chris is making really good progress.
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