Sunday, 12 October 2008

Sea mist, Sunday morning

Pale sun highlights 
a fishing line 
taut as a thin mirror 
it holds a glance of sky.

A man reels in his catch
as a boy runs down 
to foaming shallows 
plunges his hands into the white.  
The blue fish writhes
in the boy's hands 
glints like a live jewel. 
He runs up the high bank of stones 
mouth like a huge O.

Silhouettes shimmer
purple black 
with pixelating limbs.
The mist is on the run
like smoke.