Seasalter – March 2019
A gusty, slant-lit day. Two dogs
among low-tide pools. Slate blue.
Rain clouds stoop to the horizon –
reaching for their swords.
A rusty tinge to the sky line:
gathers up her skirts.
North Sea rests fists on hips,
eases her back,
leaves foam-sea-spit where it lies.
Rain’s naughty children,
all in armour,
run hand in hand across our roofs.
Sunshine hums a patient
knits new gloves of beloved’s love.