Beach

I sit on the beach and I watch the sky, the sunset coils between clouds and the dying beams.

There is a man sat on the tips of his feet, squatting, watching the sea, his legs fold in a unnatural way.

Those are the legs of a goat, he touches the surface of the waves with only his fingertips.

He leaves with a calm demeanor, he leaves as softly as the waves touch my boots.

The coastal wind gets colder in his absence.

Seagulls gather where he stood, the footsteps of a god leaver their imprints remaining in the world far beyond mortal times.

They pick on the sand, trying to swallow divinity.

-Written 28-07-17