The Picture
All day the world has waited
for me to come and rest here,
to welcome me into a picture
it has composed with people
walking their dogs along
the water's edge and the wide,
seaweed strewn beach bathed
in the soft light of a setting sun.
‘See what I have prepared’
it seems to say, drawing my eye
to the distant clouds, the water
wearing a golden glaze
and creased by a gentle breeze,
birds overhead, the sand scored
in a joyous language written
by children's scampering feet.
I sit and take it in,
feast on the exquisite detail
that is layered and worked into
every inch of the scene.
Memory gives it a name as light
fades and I leave, re-entering
the dark that is waiting for me
just beyond the frame.
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