Once we have climbed the steep track to the cliff top
and seen that the coastal path is narrow
and edgy along the range of jagged cliffs
that stretch and turn for miles, we decide
discretion is the better part of aging
and sit on a new bench provided by
the kindly dead. We can hear the wind
in the gorse, sheep cropping the tussocky grass
at the very edge, and the waves out of sight
on the rocks below swell and fall, swell and fall…
There is a container ship turning slowly
on the horizon; nearer, the white sails
of a dinghy, the shimmering shadows
of a shoal of fish; and, bobbing closer still,
half a dozen lobster pot marker buoys.
Two seal heads appear briefly above the waves.
Suddenly a solitary dolphin
breaks the surface a hundred yards away.
We hear it exhale – its head, fin, back
glistening as it dives… And then a stillness…
almost a holding of breath…
By David Selzer