Winchelsea

The sea is quiet today.

The clouds hang like secrets,

gulls autograph the sky,

and the tide pulls back

as a lover unsure of their touch.

The stones beneath our feet are cold,

smooth with time and tide.

the sea stretched out,

a line of thought

straight as the edge of book.

We kiss, and it lingers

between question and answer.

But the ocean sighs

as if it had always known

this was where we were meant to be.