I ADMIRE the pristine pier
as silvery as the placid June sea.
A young couple stroll without a care
and people relax outside the pier cafe.
Through cracks in the wooden boards
the sea sparkles with a thousand stars
and above white clouds break like spring sea ice,
I seem to drift as if in paradise.
As I walk further out into the channel,
warm sun burning gold in my hair
viewing Steep Holm and Flat Holm to my right
unmolested by waves on this sedate Friday.
To my left red and grey cliffs speak of this planet’s long history
reminding me of Victorian summer days
overdressed crowds who walk the Earth no more
numerous as the pebbles on the shore.