The wave looks clear Each time slightly less than before. I can’t explain why I’m drawn, hypnotically It’s rhythm unaltered by the breeze, Tonight it will creep up the beach But the remnants of a hurricane out over the Atlantic Emma Lee‘s most recent collection is “Ghosts in the Desert” (IDP, UK, 2015), she co-edited “Over Land, Over Sea: poems for those seeking refuge” (Five Leaves, UK, 2015), reviews for The High Window Journal, The Journal, London Grip and Sabotage Reviews. To view more of their work click below.
Watching the Waves
where it turns over shingle,
recedes,
rises,
pulls itself in and up to its fullest height
before discharging again.
It leaves a damp line of sparkle
that contrasts with the drab,
sun-beached pebbles
left by earlier waves.
to its simple movement,
lift, bend, discharge, repeat.
unaltered by the splash of nearby children.
The sun’s warmth must mean
some infinitesimally small
recalibration is required.
It doesn’t break.
It makes reflected light dance.
to the high tide mark
before receding back to open sea.
could turn it violent,
push it to smash against the sea front,
with a roar louder than storm warnings,
it could smash in windows,
tow cars, dismantle a railway,
reclaim land
shift our illusion of control.About the Author
