Pylon of heartwood with braced thighs submerged twice a day.
Uncapped head weathered by fifty summers of storms and blazing radiation, a horizontal dartboard for perched seagulls.
Smattering of scalpels for slicing water-softened feet for sacrifice to the purple-lipped cream of oyster-shell.
Delicate morsels plated in sharp-edged crockery.
Cloaked rocks quarried from country piled around a pylon that once stood earth-bound.
Anchored timber braced with screw of steel jutting from a compound fractured limb.
Dried footprints of summer’s bridge jumpers seeking circus-tumbling thrills between static timber and shimmery embrace.
Reflection of summer’s clouded skies.
The quiet kiss of fish beneath.
Alexandra J Cornwell