snap — Mousehole*
Foreground: an old black cat with dusty fur,
low-crouched behind a dustbin, biting
a lump of fatty gristle, surveilled by
a cautious seagull standing on one leg;
and, then, the harbour water, gated calm;
and, then, the harbour walls, ten foot high, more,
stretching across a mere five inches card.
Beneath them: a clean and well-brushed dog, propped
pissing on a stone capston, keen to be done
and catching up; a gang in middle age
making a minor gestural havoc -
though one's apart - bright red hair, large boots, grin -
each clothed in artificial fabric, arse
on to granite, back against port furniture;
someone parking their car; a man hefting
a lobster pot;
and, above the walls' line,
glittering fragments of an enormous hidden wave,
separating, coming down upon them.
The cat and gull shall be largely undisturbed.
For them, the day continues as it must.
* an old fishing village and now tourist stop on the S.W. coast of Cornwall, pronounced locally "Mowzel"