David J Cookson – CLIFF PATH

Now is the time of circles
of seasons
dusk shadows our incursion
hard edges
blare of billboards
right angles soften
infuse as wine through water
in silhouette
wattles plume, windblown
arc over stars’ wheel
sea harries shore
intent
sound spirals
eddies across cliff top
the cycle sand to sand
of shell, claw, rocks
bone
on the path
my footsteps a pendulum.

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