Loomery

Guillemots sit, gazing out to sea,

on rocks, white with droppings.

I’m a solitary human in 

this clifftop loomery,

my nose twitching 

with the whiff of fish.

Waves roll in like 

a giant refuse truck,

washing away

the detritus on the beach 

and the rubbish in my mind.

A sunset sky still shimmers

but ominous clouds

suggest a storm tonight.

The river fights the tide,

ready to be consumed 

by a restless, endless sea.

I will remember this silence tomorrow

when reality returns.