Saltburn Beach

We step out briskly

Across the wet, reflected sky
Towards a retreating North Sea
Not as one as old lovers are,
Arm in arm, hand in hand,
Seeking shelter within each other,
But, as independent witnesses
Of the greatness of things:
The solitary, brave headland,
A mirror of wet sands,
The rhythmic pull of tides,
An approaching storm,
A fierce foreign wind snatching
At our minimalist conversation;
All set within the spin of heaven.

Returning with skin glowing,

Satisfied, but, with no answers,
Seeking the steamy warmth
Of a café of your choice,
You watch me from a distance
As you reach for my hand,
Your face set with a final question.