Time Out

Before you and behind you
the long perspectives reach,
to vanish down the distance
in ribbed and shining beach.

You seem to walk on water
when through the midday heat
your spiralling reflection
ripples beneath your feet.

The boats upon their hawsers
feel a receding tide
and towards the lunar summons
shift knocking side by side.

Locked in the sun's surveillance
on acquiescent sand
you grip the shape of melting time
like ice inside your hand.


© Brian Fewster,
Published in Exit 21, 1998

Return to main poetry index
Return to home page