Smithereens Press Chapbooks The Sea Path by Ciarán O'Rourke | Page 12

Martello
Sun out
on the sea path
and a grey wave rising
in my chest
as I wade with you
into an April tide,
watching two terns
dangle the breeze
before their one
pure, spearing dive
through water,
which I miss in my
less elegant attempt,
rushing the element
in a sudden gulp
of need, and thinking,
as my body learns
itself again
in the tidal seep
of ice through limbs,
that you and I
were made for this
old beat of want
the sea imprints each year
on sandy minds,
that a bare-backed,
part-painful ritual like this
can be as clear
as water, and is best,
knowing the heavy
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