unstable edge

1 August 2017


You say, I wish I were



and you are
in the timeless place
they call childhood

a photograph


Look, there you are—
a red dot floating
in the middle of the blue

in defiance of land
as if you were


someone was taking the photograph


The past draws you

in collusion with land
thoughts as heavy as concrete

leave seaweed stranded
in the wake of tides

where seagulls pitch
on wind-beaten wings

salt stings


My mother, you say

the island
the sea

define the shore
where old ends and new begins

where the iron-lung of the sea breathes back and forth
cliffs crumble (over millennia) into the sea
waves settle solid as rock
the island shifts on its foundations
or the wind tilts the frame

a photograph

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