I see the sea mist once again roll in from the sea that can't be seen, with the tide and up the shore to tumble over dunes like acrobatic ravens do, between the stands of marram, lyme and couch, coating rabbits fur weaving intricates of droplets into webs that hang between two thorns of gorse that oozes coconut from yellow flowers that feel faded by the mist, the sea mist, rolling in and off the sea.....
an artist in reverse unpainting everything, erasing brushstrokes in hope it might invoke a canvas blank once more to even up the score.....
it unfolds, unravel, unveils itself to veil all else from which some
scraps of evening birdsong hang half-heartedly in vain as remnants of
the day that is slowly unbecoming so leisurely the sea mist's rolling in
and off the sea.......
rebounds, feeding ghosts that linger here and lurk amidst the murk among
the lines becoming ill- to undefined, a blurring of the edges, these
nameless shades are only caught in glimpses, blinks and second
swallowing all strain of
sound, all nuanced noise, muting every echo should it dare to hang
itself upon the air longer than it should, as more emotions lay mislaid
are laid upon its seamless skin returning everything to nought as dark
descends upon a sea mist rolling in and off the sea.......
© robert greig 2017