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Monday 24 January 2022

Unanchored

Unanchored

Her leg hangs languidly

Over the side of the lounger

Above long- forgotten drinks

Their ice melted in the heat

On the light-bright surface

Of the blinding polished deck

Amid a tangle of abandoned magazines

Crumpled pages colour-bleached

Lost beneath the relentless, blazing sun

 

The yacht wallows gently

Shallowed near the shore

Warm water cradled

Swinging slowly round

Shifting position, drifting with the tide

In the heat-baked afternoon

Where nothing stirs

And there is not a breath of air

Nor any breeze to cool the burning day

 

Suddenly aroused, the girl looks intently

Towards the shimmering island

Alert to its spice-infused aromas

Believes she hears it calling

Feels the bow pull against the chain

Dragging the light anchor

Through the soft white sand

Beneath the gin-clear water

Where acid-blue fish dart

Between shafts of flickering sunlight

 

She aches to step ashore

To feel the firm-ness of the Earth

Beneath her naked feet

A home to hold on to

A fixed point within her orbit

Un-shifting, unchanging

A steady, stable foundation

Where she could remain

Upon which she might build a life

And feel that she had finally arrived

At some long hoped-for destination

 Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2022

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