Change comes golden, grain by grain,
on a spent spring afternoon, sea icy warm,
lichen sunflowering black granite,
a half-breeze cradling a small oblong of heat;
change arrives in finger-strokes of waves,
the stop of a gull’s cry, shoes placed side by side,
a half-breath, half a memory of ambition.
This sand was once as solid as your dreams.
There’s a way the fading light catches
the creep of water, as if to drench in brilliance
what it abandons: meanderings of mud,
swirlings of sand-eels, deepening trees;
the inching of the evening train
across the flimsy estuary bridge.
In the town the waft of fish and chips
sucks families from the beach, drowsies them
with sprinklings of salt and vinegar.
The breeze whispers Septembers,
grey clouds of school uniforms, windows
without coasts, without horizons.
Copyright © Julian Dobson 2017
Julian Dobson lives in Sheffield, England, home of the famous Henderson’s Relish. His poems have appeared in publications including Brittle Star, The Interpreter’s House and Acumen, and on a bus in Guernsey. More of his work is at 52poemsinayear.wordpress.com