Cloudshapes day 19

A poem inspired by Gaynor Kane’s photo. You can see all of today’s photos on Paul Brookes’ blog here.

I know path and laugh don’t rhyme, but it’s close (and it’s late).

Northern ice

When the ice of the north
meets the blue of the south,
and the black rocks are bitter
as salt in the mouth,

I will look for a billowing
sail or a wing,
to carry me out
to where Selkie folk sing.

Where the white gulls are calling
about the black reef,
and the dark night is falling,
cold creeps like a thief,

I will follow the path
of the seal folk that ride
the wild breakers and laugh
as they dance in the tide.