Dolphins

Pz-avatarby RB Campbell30 Dec 2016

Waves break,
thresh, winnow, grind.
Everything dissolves.
Every stitch is unpicked,
every footprint eroded,
erased.

Last night's empty bottles stand,
waiting for high tide.
And I understand
nothing.

Except: there - between two waves -
plough-sharp, battleship-grey
dorsal fins
on long, smooth backs.

29/12/2016