In air thin against the coast
where orange cliffs enclose
swimmers in the shallows
turbines shift with the wind at its approach;
a pylon catches, at the end of the sun’s
closing speech, new resonances.
Flashes off the ironwork merge
with grey clouds set in violet drifting
beyond the gated community of stones:
footnotes in an island’s archive of time
referenced by the Dorset School of the Tides
beneath dugouts on the cliffs of Lyme.