Thursday, 4 June 2009


Walking the route the other way round, I'm surprised to see more of those dramatic clipped views of a sea framed inside the white angles of the town. Outlooks my back got to see.

Tantalizing as that mirrored bowl the kids want to pick up and lick, the last ice cream swirls escape the spoon. Burnished beside the brushed, the palest blue metal is calling my feet towards a dusk horizon.