The main swathe of tourists have bandaged their burnt bodies
and taken them home;
those that come now are wrapped against the cold -
fishermen, patient in green wind-breaks
wait for the big one;
time-keepers march to the water's edge, skim a stone
or two and walk briskly back;
dog lovers follow crazed animals belting along the beach
as if they've just discovered legs are for running;
meditators stare out to sea, slow their pulse
to the rhythm of breakers,
and city-dwellers stand far away from the sea's lip
near the safety of roads and car parks,
smoke cigarettes in nervy hands,
look at the seemingly infinite expanse of ocean,
retire to their cars with an ice-cream or portion of chips
and turn the radio on.
Fenella Montgomery
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