KESSINGLAND
When
the eyes open
I
am already in the water.
The
unwelcome sky hangs impossibly large;
my
harried thoughts rushing
into
its cavernous space.
The
clouds are not silent,
they
purr, feline, through the cracked horizon,
teeth
curdle the air in their path.
Where
is gravity
to
ground the addled, fleeing mind?
Gasping
in this moon-thin air
only
water holds the body to the globe.
I
can see Kessingland beach;
our
car parked nearby
and
the two of us hand in hand
tottering
over pebbles and shells.
Lying
on our backs I can tell
how
the sky holds no fear
as
we declare love to the clouds.
But
I can’t get there.
The
ebb tide holds me away;
a
cat’s cradle of conflicting currents.
I
just can’t get there.
Only
the sharp needles of recollection
pierce
the blue above,
until
the lids’ welcome fall.
29.v.2010