Friday, 26 September 2014



The only thing is glass –
between me and the force
of water, crashing
against the boulders.

Picking up beetles:
Insect larvae, molluscs;
whilst dropping off
nourishment in minerals.

The male dipper sits
on his rock-café –
watchful and waiting
to wade the tapestry.

In this small slit of time;
my thirst is quenched
my senses caressed,
every pearl soothed.

I’m in my element
in the silent fall,
and my spirits rise;
as the dipper dives.

The café owner opens
the window to the noise;
silence falling into
the water-fall,

Crashing the lazy bay-
window of thought.


1 comment:

  1. This is beautiful. My favourite part is "my spirits rise; as the dipper dives".