The art of sitting, by Britta Benson

Picture credit: Britta Benson. North Berwick.

The art of sitting

On your waterproof poncho, 
folded out flat on the beach.
I want to be touching distance to the sea. 
You know this is silly, 
and we laugh
as we sink deep and deeper
into March-cold sand.

On a wooden bench, 
side by side above the bay,
basking in sunshine, 
clumps of early daffodils at our feet. 
Our faces heliotropes,
lids closed. 
I anchor my hand in yours.

On rocks, 
between lichen and loss,
topping a secret land between tides.
The dunes a million miles away,
we stare at bright soul blue antiquity
like two lighthouses, spring kissed,
waiting, waiting.

The sea from three angles.
Our hearts weave in an out 
of vistas, wind, sun, waves.

The art of sitting with my love.