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