Knarled legs with pronounced sinews.
Remind me of the ancient hawthorn
at the Roman fort.
Swollen knees akin to burls bend as we sit companionably next to one another.
We watch the boys in their kayaks.
Fishing for pollock far out in the bay.
The third one on the look out is the great seal.
Wondering who mucks about with his dinner.
The old man was up from Yorkshire
I believe
Always loved hiking but he has to use the poles now.
‘My knees, you know? I need to take them now.’
I show him my Nordic Walking poles. ‘Family history.’ I add.
We both nodd in understanding and watch the seal pop up.
Curriously trailing the boys in their kayaks.
We laugh.
Someone is worried about their dinner.
The summer sun warms our skin.
Marram grass almost silver in the bright light.
Diamond sparkles on ripples in the sea.
He tells me about his family. The call of sea birds.
Tag: ocean
Kayaking in Arisaig
Suspended between water and sky
Stillness
Silence
Quiet splash of paddle
Then, now, and soon merge
As above so below
Mirroring clouds move underneath my bow
Nothing else matters
Silence
Like mist grief seeps into awareness Gently covering the rough rocks
An apprehension of light lingers Threatening to uncover sharp edges A foreboding of healing
As calm as the quiet sea You know before the storm etc
But for now breathe in deeply
The salt laden air
Listen to the silky whisper
Of ripples tip-toeing ashore
Ashore Again
New Horizons
Bobbing
A sailboat
Swoosh
The wave folded over it
Bobbing
A sailboat
Swoosh
The seagull’s wing
In a close fly-by
Bobbing
Me
Across the rolling waves
Offered by life
Swoosh
Another day has passed
And I still float in Perpetuum
Just at the cusp of a breaking wave
There is stillness
On hold
For an entire moment
Until it all crashes ashore
Sharp stones cutting into the soles of my feet
Swoosh
Another wave folds over me
Pushing me further ashore
Onto soft sand
Gleaming white in the sun
Startled I look around
A new path emerges to blinking eyes
Leading over sand-dunes
Beyond which I cannot see
But the sailboat lies broken
Capsized
Swoosh
Another wave
The boat washes into the sea
‘Okay then’, I think
Auf zu neuen Ufern
Temptress Calling
The surge has increased her urgency
Evening wind moves the waves inland
The temptress is rising as the tide rolls in
Anemones stretch their tentacles in anticipation
The sea hollers her enchantment so loudly the bagpipe sounds like a lullaby Drowned out by spume
The gentle tug of the moon tips the water-bowl
Splashing icy spray over my naked feet
There is no mop big enough
Tomorrow morning I will be able to walk across the sandbank again
For tonight I watch the moon rising
Feet in freezing brine
An owl hoots
Poetry by Nathalie 