Sport 10: Autumn 1993
Sunset
Sunset
Sunsets are for poets and there's not a thing
I can do with this one.
Gulls are careering out of the picture.
A man is thrashing upstream as if he'd kill
for its source. Wind chills my back
as I stand by the estuary which flares
like a glacier on fast forward towards the ocean.
No evening star. No moon.
Strands of gold thrown out
in the silver stream like trash