Dawlish 14/03/09

The lap, lap, lap of the sea
A cocoon holding me
Nature, heartbeat.
Pull of the moon.
Salty seaweed,
Oxygen taste on my tongue
and in my nose.

Clearing, cleansing
Through my veins.
A burst of happiness.
My revery shot through by
the caw, caw, caw of seagulls.

Ice cream, ice flakes upon my tongue
Clotted cream I seek out the crust
and break through savory to the sweet
milky, thick and delectable.
Black swans glide past.