everything seems better.
The table folds away,
the morning walks beside me,
until a new song is heard.
When the waves break
over you
all residue of lost momentum
is scoured clean. A line
is reimagined and redrawn.
There is no other way to say
the unsayable – the way a cloud bends,
the way a seal looks to sea,
the way a foal rubs its flank on barbed
wire, the way the dunes soften
to a marram blur
in the corner of my eye,
the way birds dive, feathered arrows
breaking the meniscus.
When I look away then back again –
when the waves are blue,
when everything gets mixed up
and makes no sense anymore.
