Poem: Two Half Past Threes

29th July 2022

15.30
Far down the baked path,
Distant swim-bound figures heat-shiver.
Small butterflies out-blue a cloudless sky;
Birds fly furtive, sedge to harvest-dusted hedge,
No calls at all.

Brightest flower now, sun-staring ragwort.
Brightest movement, where sea reflections
Surround skinshine children
So hushgiggly in the warm shallows
With myriad firepoints.

03.30
Greenslumber mild and breezeless
Down through the honeysuckle-heavy night
(Fragrant as wading through wine):
Then this shore was ours alone,
Domed by an ocean of steady stars.

Surly small wavebreaks seemed so loud,
Slipping from statue-smooth bedrock straight to navel…
Momentarily ignited, rocket bursts of brilliance
As we swam into harlequin mosaics
Northquarter reflections of altitude-mysteried noctilucence.

© Christopher Jessop 2022