Mindscape: Beach (Poetry Monthly)

A crab's-eye view from the sand whispers 'colour' -

an invitation to sink into the summer stripes of

blue, azure, aqua, pewter, white in

tasteful, horizontal, deckchair slabs.

Human skins, in all their mottled shades,

look much the same as each other,

as difficult to distinguish one 

as to tell shell from shell.

These burrowing creatures seem compelled to construct,

they fill buckets with salt-water, mix sand,

dig, shape, create -

perhaps it's instinctive.

They scuttle across the surface, splash at the water's edge

in primary brights, a scattering of reds and yellows, oranges

and pinks on churned silver, a clash as cheerful as a gaudy 

shoal flashing against coral castles and salty swaying forests.

The sun slips into a crack between blues in a blaze

that sucks out all of the colour and swallows the heat -

human casings are too thin to tolerate cool air, they leave

rocks waiting in the dark, holding the memory of warmth.