Mandrem in winter

by Abeer Hoque

The dog is sleeping on the sand
Old gold light spreads on the land
Jewel chinks through straw and thatching
Baby crows squeaking scratching.

The sand is baked a meringue pie,
Pressed this way by feet and paws
Parchment coloured and lined with palms
Fronds steadied by birds’ claws.

Walk this path between the trees
Double helix to the seas
The crabs have chewed up all the beach
Sandy spitballs each to each.

The sea is like that glass of old
Heat waves trapped within the blue.
The horizon stretches clear and fine
Fishing boats oared out of view.

Wet and warm and wide and willing
The tides keep the sea from spilling
Draws the waves away from shore
Crashes back when the moon wants more.

Here the wind is fair and welcome
Here the light falls where you stand
Here the walls end with the ocean
The dog is sleeping on the sand

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