Caught at the cusp
just as the tide starts to ebb
fingers of dark rock, orthogonal to the waterline
reach out towards the setting sun.
The sun, covered by thin cloud, casts silver light
right up to where the sea’s foam
hits the darker grey of the beach.
In the foreground,
silhouette of scrubby bushes cling to the cliff face
use crannies of windblown sand
as a lifeline.
Clair Chilvers was a cancer scientist, and latterly worked for the UK National Health Service. She lives in Gloucestershire, UK and has had poems published in Ink Sweat and Tears, Agenda, Impspired, Amaryllis, Atrium, Allegro, ArtemisPoetry and Sarasvati. www.clairchilverspoetry.co.uk