Nature Poems

	A recollection of first footing There is something about that taste The sweet honey-drift over the waves Salt no more is my paramour Whose love tugs me to weakness Thin beauty of such clear space Draws a goggle-eyed gasp such as Amphetamine or some such racer Of the cold blood beating the sun Last full moon the pull of earth Placed a fin upon the coarse-grain sand And mud-cool air pushed the muscle And played breath upon each scale Then warmth urged green wells To melt ahead like creeping coral Snouts raised to the bright sun Coursed like the sting-thumbs of anemones And salt crystallised around Eye cells ringing with crusts And water felt like an old lover Dull and grey as the sea bed © David Incoll 2001
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