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.
29/5/2013
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