Water’s Edge

A sunlit jetty, jutting out to sea;
a wall of rocks resist the lapping tide;
the Water’s Edge cafe is serving tea;
two tethered yachts are dancing side-by-side.
Waves absorb the jetty, drink to the bar;
it’s an all-day breakfast, a seafood quiche;
jelly-fish, tangled nets and caviar;
loose jib on the Cactus Wren breaks its leash;
a docile doberman lounges at large,
waitress brings him water in a blue dish;
father and son wave to a passing barge;
a day without limits… just as you’d wish.
. Today’s consumption will be time well spent,
. awash with moments, as were sort of meant.

© Tim Grace, 15 September 2012


To the reader: To the sound of gently lapping water I wander the coastal promenade; find an outdoor table; it’s perched at the end of a short jetty. With the morning sun’s warmth on my back I open my eyes to the scenery at large. At water’s edge, a cafe has delivered the first of many all-day breakfasts. Behind me two yachts acknowledge as passing wave. Eyes shift, a waitress is delivering a blue bowl of water to a black dog. Scene closes with a father and his young son greeting the black dog with a ‘good morning’ pat-and-chat.

To the poet: Light extends a poet’s vision into the realms of colour and movement. The crisp light of dawn is by nature poetic. With fresh aspect it exposes familiar forms to new interpretation. Dawn’s crisp exposure, fleeting as it is, delivers a lasting impression. Beyond an hour or so of rising its particular beauty is diffused to a general sense of mundane utility. The day is best seized by the touch of dawn.

 

 


Water's Edge

Water’s Edge

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