Vision at St. Abbs

The smell of fish came coiling
on the ocean wind
that day the silence cozied up
and overcame the fisherman's laugh
and stilled the mast rope's slap.

The jurisdiction of the waves themselves
was wondered at as quiet fell like molten lead
and lapping held its briny tongue
at the harbour of St. Abbs.

Shaved from a piece of marble vapour
substantial as a night sweat dream
she hovered above old Scotia's rock
and held him like a snake gazed rat.

The words trilled out her beautiful mouth
like bubbles from a small child's toy,
"Your shadow that fell upon the wall
now falls upon the iron gate
and innocence surrounds you like
a host of stingless bees . . . choose well!"

The sound welled up with seagull's cry
and creaking boat and canvas crack . . .
for she was gone and sound was left
. . . and innocence . . . and I.