Friday, 19 August 2016

Holidays to Wales (II)

Walking in a waking dream
Our footprints led all the way down
From the edge of the caravan
Onto the pier about half a mile away
Like a long lease
In a symmetry of shadows 
Just past sunset

Watching the waves 
Trimming their flow in the air
Over the tip of the moon
Before holding their breath
Half stroke before poking through  
A imaginary broken window
And crashing back to the ground

Laced in broken crystals 
Hinged wide open 
Smeared in a lace of slight mist 
Shifting away from the past
And in a chattering future
Underneath clocks of stone 
And memories of first love 
Met on a sullen beach in Wales

In kiss that seemed that lasted
Over a decade  
Floating in imaginary theatres 
In a flotilla of paper boats 
Dim in a reflective gaze
Leaving us both breath-taken
Becoming the other in translation.