First Fragments
Easter Sunday in following Force 3-4 Southerlies
Above the glass green and foam gush
The rolling wave lifted me
Lord of the valley ebony blue below,
Then passed. My wake trailing
Briefly behind.
Two waves crossed
And their foam-tipped pinnacle
Gleamed emerald.
Collapse, crack and swell
Our white cloud pulled on through
The blue and the blue;
Its quivering lip
Guided the helmsman.
A grey arc out of the water
Grabbed air, sliced a portion of sky
And dived.
Brief companion.
Swell, lift and thrust of
The surge at our stern,
Foaming to greet the fairlead
Then forward with a fleecy rush
Cascading green behind.
Wind and surge behind us,
Prow cleaving the dark water and
Breasting the surf;
Stern foaming in seething furrows
Of white.
