The Moon

The Moon

6 January, 2018

We went to Smuggler’s Cove today, you and I

Always deserted, being the least lovely beach in all of Dorset.

We picked our way down the latest slump of muddy cliff to gravel and stone

Turned our faces towards the ocean.

The still, oily, almost-movementless sea

An occasional tiny ripple moving landwards

Apologetic waves: sorry to disturb the glassy surface.

But the grey liquid silk was broken anyway

By rock shelf, pocked with pools.

And further along the beach, by the ribs and sternum of a long-wrecked coal ship

Rising high, giving perch to seabirds.

Although we visit this beach often I have never seen so much rock exposed

Never seen so much geology on show.

Most days, history hides below sliding

Sometimes raging

White-crested sets of almost-surfable waves.

The water was in retreat.

We talked about school, about the merits of your various subjects and their teachers.

While all the time walking through one massive, for-real physics lesson.

Because the ocean was being sucked into the earth’s middle

The way a fat man sucks in his stomach to slim his shape.

The opposing force meanwhile, was weak.

Today is New Moon here in Dorset

The beginning of a fresh lunar cycle.

The moon today was as far away from Smuggler’s Cove as it will be for a month

Giving the rocks, the pools and the teeming life within them

Their chance to shine.

And giving us the chance to see them.

Because we went to Smuggler’s Cove today, you and I.