Enough Blue

At the coast we are so tired.
We buy fish and chips to take away
and sit in the curl of the bay, not talking.
I take your photo just to prove
there was sea, fish and chips
but you're not smiling.
You can't eat and talk you say.
I am weary, my bones lead, heart a ton.
We've been driving and driving,
should have stayed at home instead.
The sun is not out.
Then there's a man, he leans his bike
careful against the railings.
Steps back, gets out his camera.
He poses her, against the backdrop of the sea,
changes angles, tilts her handlebars just so.
And suddenly we're back, looking at him
each other remembering.
We chuck the chip wrappers in the bin
and shuffle up.
Close together on the bench, I kiss your temple
you squeeze my knee.
Somewhere above there's a break in the cloud.
Enough blue to make a pair of sailor's trousers.