Daniel Paylor

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The Peppermint Bay

The waves breaking on the shore
Subside into an old film score
The cliff cups screams of seagulls and we wait.

Sigh-studded time will pass
In glass sands of the hour-glass,
And promote new ways of breathing as we lay.

Sea-foam from other coasts
Hangs in the air as ghosts
It strokes the sleeping scrimshaw as it sways.

Lime, sugar, Malibu,
Tender minted for me and you.
Daily, we pay for the memory of the taste.

Starfish and turtle-shell,
Sea kale bursts with fairy tales
To the ceaseless commendation of the waves,
And the breath of peppermint that haunts the bay.

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