Glass

The click-clack of heels down a midnight street
as the waves come rolling in
on an empty beach
while the board walk walks
with lovers
friends
and me

gazing skywards the luminous orange shift of street light
ascends in the sea fog
beaming towards the clouds
caressing their undersides
turning them into
burning orange embers in the sky

salt water cool humidity
and perfume
on a womens breast
passing by spilling radiance
picked up in the wind

passing conversations
a cluck clack of tongues
raining down on the sound of waves
as run away bags
chase run away dogs
in the cool heat
of a seaside night

to be a passing spectator
on a lovers night

is to have golden eyes
in inky darkness

to be loved by the wind
and the years gone by
layers of old photographs
seen through my modern lens
trying to pick them out
despite the blur

to honour the moments of beauty
of solitude
sadness
and grace
that are passing by
all around us

this man and his half empty glass
of Chardonnay
spilling dust clouds from his mouth
white smoke against a night sky

vindicated here in the half dark
the windows of palaces wink at me
from the other side

glass
glass
glass

people and courtyards and cemeteries
made of glass


see right through
from the other side

all this space and all this time

is glass