Sensational Rock,
swimming in light.
Bird cries clinging to ancient ledges,
Kittiwakes smashing against time.
What tales you could tell.
Your face is so moody,
flickers with breezes,
crumbles in a hot afternoon.
Climbing your powdery steps,
we look down on the sea
thrashing at you.
We join a choir of birds at your peak,
cry out to the sky
in good spirits.
Nesting for the sake of it,
our lyrics are remnants on the shore.
We keep chipping away,
do we not?
We slip
through the pebbles,
splashing
with babies.
We leave our mark,
a grain
on the ancient landscape.
We go.
We dance like the sunlight
on your scarred body:
tripping,
falling,
singing
away.
KEITH ARMSTRONG
As published in new book by Bill Greenwell:
