Return
This is a note to say I’ve arrived
in Nowhere-next-the-Sea,
I’ve dumped the baggage overboard
but sent you back the key.
Hang out the washing on the cliffs,
flap and wave the cloth;
skiffs will flex their ribs and strakes –
embrace the water’s wash.
Sun shall rake through tattered flax,
unfurl a curling sail –
the wake has swirled around the bay,
is foaming at the wall;
the silent shoals are bladder-strung,
shrill shale takes the song;
the mermaid sinks and lolls her tail
and rolls her sea-pink tongue.
While mists and salts sit on the air
I’ll wear nothing but the sea.
When the wind blows up, I will return –
Listen. Call to me.