mail icontwitter iconBlogspot iconrss icon

Sport 36: Winter 2008

95. Fossil Point

page 179

95. Fossil Point

Up and down, up and down, all night
he walked the beach round Fossil Point like some
key-searching ghost, his little bones enhazed
with glow-warps weaved of sand and spray, all smazed
with sways of moonlight. Hither, thither, come
and go, and backwards, forwards, graptolite
and glow-worm, bird and stone. But not alone.
Down the beach a man was fishing, black
against the stars, his rod and line as if
holding sea and land together, tensive,
wired, momentous. Still he scuttled. Back
and forth and back like sand against a bone.

The fisher found no fish, the ghost no key.
The sun came up and danced across the sea.