top of page

Low Tide

Martin Goldie

Low Tide

On ruffled edge
of empty Broad’s rust shore,
on earths soft comfort
we brown in endless blue.
As slow time cools
the long day’s heat,
in brooding silence
becalmed on quiet sand
our secret whispers rise.

With lonely bittern mute,
we stare passed river’s tears
to distant jade horizon,
beyond our tethered boat
soft drifting on broad’s low tide,
awaiting evening’s
restless breeze,
to sail us home
on angel’s breath.

Winner of City of Poets TINY PRIZE - January 2023

bottom of page