A species of brittle sea star sprawls, indolent on a sun-bathed rock, one arm testing a crevice it can secret itself in. It spreads itself, comfortable in its long limbs that name them also serpent stars. They are quick and flexible; we find them hiding under rocks, jammed in impossible small cracks. They are slender… Continue reading Serpent Stars
Tag: sea
Sunset
Why don't we just freeze this moment - leave the waves' foam suspended in white flowers, the rocks stolidly proud-browed. Now the sea holds unknown depths of green and the sky pastel gradations. The wind wipes the salt from our faces; the twilight descending promises a blank slate of night.
The Light Rising
i call this – a salt-stained, Midas-rimmed kiss. it fingers the horizon, caresses the waves. disappears with nothing but a facsimile of hope in its ash-ringed wake. *waves nervously* I'm back! I was away the past week, travelling, mostly: not many birds to show for it, or photographs - still, enjoyable (though a trip sans… Continue reading The Light Rising
somewhere up a tree 