For 20 minutes in July
the sky turns an elfin blue
at dusk – and they are with us again
You can see it through a glass window
of a clear sky over the sea
as the blue radiates and deepens its shine
its in the eyes, momentarily, of a young woman
in the flicker of an eyelid she’ll hide and forget her quiver of arrows
In the fort at the chine mouth what they held off is lost now in time
- maybe the palest of copper dragons
come screeching round the cliffs and through the willows
at a moments notice
But who now knows?
All you hear is Radio Gaga
Radio Googoo
You had the time, you had the power
Pay peanuts and you’ll get monkeys
complains the taxi controller with a rant on Cameron’s big society
interrupting the song on the way to the station
In the inn, once a fort
there are stirrings of a well-oiled machine
seawalls and defences and inlets structured on a superb scale
Eddies and ripples timed, just so
by elfin partners who don’t speak
as uninterrupted waves sound as they break
I heard it on my radio
Smudged and obscure
remnants lost in the soundtrack
fluttering in the breeze
