TO LINDISFARNE
From Seahouses to
Inner Farne, a bumble bee
escorted our boat.
OFF POINT OF AIR
In a far channel,
a lone boatmen plays the pipes:
‘The Road to the Isles’.
FROM HILBRE ISLAND
A pale summer’s day –
low tide, windless, infinite:
seals bark distantly.
ON YNYS LLANDDWYN
On summer’s last day,
wind flecked wave crests arise, curl,
spill like quick-silver.
FROM THE MARITIME MUSEUM
Brown pelicans glide
freely, over Alcatraz,
like tawny galleons.
FROM GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE
Shouldering the wind, our
close shadows are stretched below
on the ribbed water.
ON SCREMERSTON BEACH, NEW YEAR’S DAY
In the dunes, a seal
was stranded – dissipating whisky
and resolve.
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