Froth & Feathers

Remember how the mist fell, a veil
floating from the sky’s crown, the sea

reaching up, up, up – a meeting of waters?
You said There is no horizon, no distance,

only the here and now. And it was true, the sea
and the air mingling, salt and oxygen drifting

into our faces as we watched under our tent,
the canvas billowing like lungs after a hard run.

A deserted beach save for scuttling hermit crabs,
frothy waves fingering the beach, and mournful

echoes of sea birds, ghostly bits of ectoplasm
winging by. Time stood still for those hours,

a pause before a sprint. As we gathered our gear,
began our last walk together, the birds fell silent,
the mist turned to rain.

*

Prompt via The Wombwell Rainbow

Art by John Law