I was holidaying in Sandsend this September and couldn’t make the TCWG workshop. I sent my apologies and this poem, which came to me as I was fishing, or more correctly, wetting a long distance of nylon line. James Nash was the facilitator and read my poem to the group, which makes me extremely proud as James is a remarkable poet and a sensitive, sympathetic, quite brilliant facilitator.
Swallows and House Martins greet
while I tell myself I’m fishing.
a pair of Grey Wagtail yellow the morning,
dazzle of concentrated sunlight.
rods bow and bend
in time with the sea waves
timeless everlasting timeless everlasting
Pied Wagtails mimic canine approval of
the waxing and wanings, Waxwings and wailings
yet to come.
no fish bite to interrupt this moment of perfection.
beyond the powers of my binoculars or my description
still manage strong wingbeats in a still air. Still there.
then the dolphins tumble in the waters
opposite the Sandsend Store
Copyright Ray Stearn 4th September 2019