Late afternoon
Refracts and alters
The sea from blue-scape
Of cool, dark wandering,
To a surface of captured sea-light,
Spliced by wave flux
To an oscillating multitude
Of angles:
And from it rises haze
In subtle smudge
And salt puff,
Driven above the surge,
Ascending as the outer edge
Of the visible wave,
To high spirit
And fine distillate
Of seawater ether,
Energised beyond
Dense form
And made buoyant
On air’s
Much lighter,
Transitory
Substance.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
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