seals

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…