lead came window grid-
 mapped pre-
  dawn sky from Red Sails
     as if the house itself
      had turned night in for soul-
       flight over Minnis Bay's slack water
         intertidal rumble strips
           now thickened in October sun-
            tint townscape screen overlay back-
           dropped back and weighed
          against vast obedience wherein
        we glide along the Esplanade veer
      leeward at the Nayland Rock
      where only practical cats take shelter
        from the intemperance of haggled verse salt-
          dried spring rolls fading honk
           and the limitless unoccupied space of everything
sensed unsaid now anchored bobbing at the Outer Tongue

Margate         October 2009