Dark Noon at Gwithian

Dark Noon at Gwithian

rocks sit black and hunched
their faces turned
to an unruly sea,

creased as if blinking with disappointed eyes.

their dark brows furrowed
at a distant horizon
and a storm that may never come,

they wait,
gazing into the blackened light,

and the sound of silence
stuns with the suddenness
of a broken clock,
a door slammed
or a word unspoken.

the swell of the waves
stills
and the gulls halt their screaming.
clouds draw closer
as if afraid,
needing each other’s nearness,
and everything seems to
clench its breath.

for just a moment,
for just one beat

of a heart that holds all

all that exists is waiting.

rain begins to pat
tentatively
at the smooth-skinned rocks
and, like a veil,
it shivers across the tide.


© Anna Reith. All rights reserved.

Available in the print volume House of Choices: collected poems.