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published in Connections,
Autumn 2005
Walking to Lundy Island
She
picked up the trick in an old book,
thought,
if he can do it, so can I.
She
put her feet on the water,
an
experimental act, speculative,
gathering
conviction stood upright,
let
her full weight drop.
The
slight sea rippled below her ankles
mysterious,
exhilarating as she loped
over
the tide. The current trickled by
tickled
her lifted soles, slid through toes
from
arch to heel as small sea creatures rocked
and
gently somersaulted in her slipstream
treading
fathoms she moved between floating
and
flying, too light, too buoyant to drown.
On
shore, exalted, she lit fire, skewered fish
made
bread, sat down and waited.
Lyn White
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last
update:
contact
poetry favourites:
Second
Light
Equinox
The
Rialto
and in
the
shop
...
anthologies -
"The
Ticking Crocodile",
and
"Piety
and Plum Porridge",
Blinking Eye
"My
Mother Threw Knives",
Second Light,
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