Colours Along A Beach
by Allan Bolton
The castle that locks this bay’s southern edge
points my way north along the empty beach,
its colours washed bright by the summer sun:
waves gunmetal grey are lit by shining
white crests in ranks five strong, predictable.
Yet on this rising tide, not wholly so:
some susurrations come frothing further.
I am pushed out of firm umber into
soft-sifted amber as sea claims more sand.
Black rocks above the surge hold on flat backs
wispy weed that sun makes dazzle lime green.
I held this memory and hold it still,
contained within its canopy of blue
to prompt a prayer, a simple thank you.
