Bracken Air
On a June morning
I swim in slow motion through thick bracken
air
The day encircles me
Kissing me gently awake
Licking night sweat from my neck
Making me clean
Rousing me from dreams of midsummer
Chasing grass pollen from my
eyes
Running its fingertips down my spine
And
Tasting the dew on my
lips
On a June morning
I swim through thick bracken
air
Moon Raker
Gold morning
following Dorset curves to
An ozone breeze
above a fallen beach.
Under the
Diamond Slab
The sea snapped
at my toes
Jokingly.
I hugged the
rock
Lovingly
Lovingly
And felt the
warmth.
Gulls played in
the wind,
Sea shell wings
against a ceiling of
Blue blue.
I smelled sea on my tongue
And closed my
eyes to see the view
Of walls and
waves
And a beach
that went on
Forever.
A pearl moon
hung in fullness
Over fish and
chips
On our fingers
and pink sketched sky.
I danced in
moon shadow
And drowned in
my feather bed
Peacefully.
Sarah Flint has been trying to put words into good order for a while. Originally
writing about all things green and horticultural she now has had success in the
world of poetry and flash fiction. She has been runner up in the Scottish
Mountaineering Council poetry competition for 2 years running and is a regular
contributor to The Pygmy Giant.
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