late afternoon is
wet with light
Two fishermen stroll
the brawling surf
A lizard
decorates a sun-boiled stump
Time has settled on the pier’s
dentistry of rotted timber
its bicycles
fishing pots and
Stinking bait
In the idle swell
Sunburnt men
dangle rods
Two mating dragonflies hover
Prehistorical as the
horned monsters
anglers pull in
Reefed up below
Are boats under black canvas
and gulls lashed
to the rocking water
At the curve of the world
Sun is a spitting apocalypse
Stood close to pier’s end
A man scans the horizon
for a morsel of sail
and tosses a hissing butt
in the heartbroken ocean
Listening to the
Slosh and
amen of the sea

Supported by Arts Council England