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The Spike Golden Jubilee Number May 1949

I — Nightwalkers on the Beach


Nightwalkers on the Beach

Sealift and hoodover of slate sky
On the sands the scramble of surf
On the upthrust, weevilled rocks, waves lurch.

Wayover sky the wind ravels clouds,
Our bodies in fathoms of air reach
Offshore to seafringe beyond the beach.

Seasurge and cloudsurf and we between,
Waiting for the big one, the seventh,
The arbiter of tidal strength.

And there is certain, tidal turn
Knowing always where it's going,
And we on the beach, what are we doing?