Catching the Butterfly (57), for Victoria

1.

Trace back my steps
To make sense of
Black ringed sea groynes
Geogrids plastic
Soil support
Rubberised movement joint
Black pebble slipway
Splitting asphalt and
Tarmac sloping away
Rusted sheet piles
Steep unguarded drop
Depths of sea weeds
And a boat
Lapping against the high tide
Short of hours
Tide tables, breakwaters
The shape of waves
Rolling, passer by
The last one won’t let go.

2.

Stuck, writing backwards
Two shells, black and white,
Among my hand
Among each other
Lovelorn
Palaces and hiding places
The beauty of shells of
You and me
And the sound of the sea
Within
Flutter and rush of blood
From here all is human centred
Inlets and coastal pools
Birds nesting among
Bunker grafitti
Wheat fields in motion
Hardy trees along the shingle
Street, blood red sand
Keep off beach.

3.

Trace back my steps
To see how I started
Loving this person
In this dream of mine
Catching the butterfly
Around grassy verges
Stooping left and right
Before it flies away
Forgetting everything
Once closely guarded
Like fortresses
And tiny windows
Like three turning four
The tilt of the earth
This side of the hour clock
And back again
Like bird cry, Mikama,
And when I stop still
It all comes back.