Sandscape After Hours

Amroth

Each footprint a journey

turns the beach into dreamtime.

They collide, converge

in silent riot of unmet strangers:

perhaps a supple body twisting,

flicking sand wishes to the wind

or two minds in opposition

slinging firm prints in terse lines

and there, a loner shuffles

an exotic weft into the mesh

then falters.

The sun’s glance burns

into the depth of every step

every pattern of feet on sand,

each strand weaving dreamfibres

without start or end

just journeys

and

sweet sea havoc on the turn.