Muscles ripple under the skin of the sea
as it surges forward
then slips back.
A pale scar
runs across the bulge of the bay
like scurf on the shoulders of a funeral suit.
A deep fold of sand
hard as the rib of a whale
lies under the waves
a current licks along it
mouths at the bodies of swimmers
when they come close.
Survivors let the current take them
swim into the pain
wait through the slow unpicking of the hours
until they drift into the shallows
beyond the headland
where the sand bears no familiar prints.
from ‘Salt’ published by IDP 2013