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