The sea and the sky push together a pinch,
And a deep fog hangs damply in hush,
The tide climbs the steps never gaining an inch,
Forming pools that will not again touch.

Fog sits on the still waves like breath on a mirror,
And the ghost ships are waiting in line,
The Red lights and white lights dance as they steer,
And the dull of the moon falls behind.

Lights flood in a cone shape like coils of a shell,
And they kiss the sea’s surface like glass,
The sea bed is soundless untouched by the swell,
And the gulls tuck their heads as they pass.

The centre is far in our velveteen box,
And the water at rest now lays flat,
No ripples are forming, it raises through rocks,
And as fast as they rise they retract.

The iris is traded with counterfeit coin,
Stars shooting to fade from clear sight,
Ropes that are fraying and fault where they join,
And the known world fades dark as the night.