Late

Late

garden drowsy
save for the twitch
of swimsuits on the line
the house echoes
a cowrie shell
foot-taps from the clock
the crack of sand on the floor
fly buzzing from a dab of butter
crockery islanded in the bowl
water finger warm
rain soft
spumed with suds

gone for a walk
the note says
could not wait
the sun is wasting
the skyline has blue
the wind salt
there are pools
and adventures
stones for shoes

apart
you picture them on the climb
updraft in their hair and clothes
circle closer
a dream gull
glide above the cliff path
hear breath and laughter
words not meant for you
sense what has been lost
know it has been stolen