First Light
Created | Updated Jan 21, 2009
Sea, a sheet of polished copper, flat and still
Growing paler in the apricot light of dawn
Palace Pier, silver-pink domes shimmering
Rusting iron struts sunk in tinted glass
High tide on turn, draws a child unresisting
Over pebbly banks by slippery stone groin
She kicks off sandals and steps into the water
It's warm - warmer than the morning air
Small feet look magnified, bleached, translucent
Pebbles rumble softly - the seas sucks them south
Giant sugared almonds: blue, pink, orange, white
Wavelets retreat, leaving cold, wet shins and ankles
She sits where the bank plunges steeply
Inhales the familiar tang: salt, sea-weed, fish
Gazing through crystal ripples to alabaster toes
The net of light plays across her feet
Legs and stones bend and contort
She squints up. The kaleidoscope sky is mauve now
Streaked with thin wisps of golden edged, ruddy cloud
Seagulls fly low, scanning the water's edge
Blushing quicksilver light glints off mirror surface
Clearly defines every still and twisting feather
She wants to dive into the sky, soar under the water.
It's a spell. She is the sea and sky, a bird, a pebble.
No boundary shows where she ends and the dawn begins.
She's still there. Part of me.
