A line of clouds

A line of clouds

Cut, as with a knife

To rest

Flat side down

All the way along the horizon

Between that place

And this place

Twenty leagues

Or twenty fathoms of ocean

Now two birds

In unison flight

Outpace the boat

Of several hundred horsepower

We rise, we fall

We top, we tail

We have a pleasant trip

So the big screen reminds us

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The almost never-ending

The almost never-ending

Line of the horizon

As the ship

Sails perpendicular

At the absolute right angle

For time and distance

To be no time or distance at all

From the minor wave to the major swell

I am reminded of the rule of sevens

But, right then

Right there

A small fishing boat

With anchor dropped

On to the unseen sea bed says:

I am the one

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One boat

One boat

One man

One noisy noisy dog

One island

One man

One quiet quiet life

Say hello

Say goodbye

See you again tomorrow

Go now

Go downstairs

Find the love

Of early mornings

Sat at the kitchen table

With pen and paper

And a mug of tea

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Lights flicker

Lights flicker

Swell rises

Then falls

Now it is the engine's rotation

Which hums and vibrates

As we leave the land behind

As you have left

More than your land

Or your kingdoms

Sun falls

On the cabin window

Clear view

All the way

To the seamless horizon

Of sea and sky of sky and sea

In this moment

Alone again or

Wherever the beams linger

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There is an open-topped bus

There is an open-topped bus

On the hour

If it’s not raining

Other than that

It’s three-quarters of an hour

For the regular service

Somehow the folk

Look altogether older

Perhaps down here

They flew too near to the sun

In their youth

Whereas I stayed up north

But no

The open-topped route

Is finished for the day

How fortunate are we

To wait in this bus-station

While clouds and national

Cyclists routinely pass by

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