Beach combing

Two could walk this beach becoming
Barefoot now and then as the rocks
Obtrude, piling down from the short
Worn cliffs, past water’s edge. Slinging
Shoes over shoulders and climbing
The rocks. Fording deltas. Getting
Stronger as they go. Clothes falling
To rags.

Two could walk this beach
And one turning to the other
Will say: Nothing goes on forever,
But the world is much larger than
I had imagined. And the other,
Turning in turn, reply: It all
Seems small to me; everything,
I think, is like an ebbing tide.
Building a fire. Watching stars fall
Into the sea.

Two could walk this beach
For continents. Catching fish in
Their tangled nets of hair. Dreaming
Islands in the moon’s deep white seas.
Hiding their bones in the wind.

 

© Mark Milner

One thought on “Beach combing

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s