Sleeping Dragon By The Sea
The sea had that burnished look,
the look of a storm coming,
although it was hot.
We ran, hobbling and tiptoeing,
over the burning sand,
towards the rocky outcrop
that curved around,
like a sleeping dragon,
guarding the bay.
In the shadow of the rocky beast
we lay our towels down
on the slow de-scaling,
a flinty scree,
and ran recklessly
into the sea.
The rock we always swam to
was half submerged,
it's barnacles exposed,
rough and austere.
I felt the pull and tug
of the current,
as though the dragon was
sweeping her tail
through the swirling deep.
The rest is a blur
of brittle bone
against brittle barnacles.
A horrible suction
and a nearly dreadful end,
until I lay, drenched
and shredded
in the shadow of the rock,
cocooned in a towel
and in my saviour's arms.
Blur brittle austere cocoon burnished
flinty
drenched chalk scrape barnacles rough
tongue
