at the end of the rocky little slope
that leads from the footpath
to the beach
stands an iron frame.
an unclad, black boned scarecrow
his shoulders square on to the sand.
calloused ribs encrusted to
the ferrous vertebrae.
I pass him every evening
As I pick my way over the stones
To begin my journey
on the wet sand.
as I walk towards the sunset,
he is at my back
and I never turn round to look at him.
everything is too close.
when I am far enough away
I can reach out my eyes
as the sunset picks out the limbs
against the orange and blue.
I smile at him in recognition.
Little tufts of laughter
Escape as soft feathers
From my mouth.
He watches me with indulgent eyes.
I am beautiful, a featureless impression.
My silhouette a ballerina
Elongated into the reflection.
I lift my cheeks and shoulders
Exhaling my joy in delightful shudders.
Controlling the urge to raise my arms
and acknowledge his presence.
from the other end of the beach
I think he is you
come down to meet me at the water
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem