sliding sun

    wavers a path 

across the sea

    which way does the tide pull?

ripples      on wet sand


          through your    


shimmer it back      not quite 




                    your ankles     

draws you 


                                the calling waves

I want to fold my hands around you

cradle you in my cupped palms 

past sea holly and marram grass 

to the shelter of the trees 

abide with you on sweet-scented earth


            a dove is calling

‘Limen’ first appeared in The Amethyst Review on 28th March 2020

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