A view to the sea

All time is tidying and shrugging off

The cast weight of a cramping life,

Trying to pull light through the spine,

I walk the view down to the sea,

My sight edged by the Edwardian stone

Certainty of a Grandmother's gaze.



The muscle seizes and weaves the day,

Ululating in a glow from the mackerel sky,

The pulse slows about a half moon's edge,

The bones grow light above the stride,

Until sarsen where the wind meets the land,

His gull rides to the will in the air again.