Salt Foot

I am Salt Foot,

Sometimes Kelp Witch,

Known as Bone Picker:

Always the one with

The feather hood.

Rolling gently loch surface

Stroked by the pulses and

Quills of an older time

Presses in against the

Silver-shadow banks

Of a low-sun tide.

Across orca acres

And salt-otter wrack,

Past the wrecks of dreams

Between rock armour links –

As the poured-down

Light changes the

Observed and the observer,

And digs holes in the sky

I am Salt Foot,

Coming home again.