Sunday 10 July 2016

Relic Environments Trilogy: Book I, Part 1.xi

from Book I, Part 1, Mystery Tramp Eclogues

The Afterlife of Thomas Hardy


On Portland Sand

waters slide sleek,

a sable halfling creek

of seashell contraband.



The kites, crescents

of hoisted blue,

spike or crash, the wind too

much or little, the sense



of distance lost

in spirals, set

against each flaring jet

of tug-line Pentecost.



The trippers wade

the ribbon reach

of something less than beach,

and will it to be made,



passing along

low meadow, black-

thorn scrub and tangled tack,

to catch the sea’s sarong



of wavy green,

a change in light,

a blink of second sight

that’s conjured to the mean,



but cannot tell

which ghost they thought

would join them there, caught 

within the light that fell,

 
the plot offhand,

its curious

refrain a footprint fuss

of fraying tides and sand.

No comments:

Post a Comment