← All poemsThe rock does not apologise
for being hard.
The light does not explain
why it comes in sideways,
low, like something
that has travelled a long way
to reach this particular shore.
We came here with cameras
and clothes that did not belong
to the weather
and we made something
that belonged here more
than we did.
That is the thing about beauty —
you do not have to be native
to find it.
You only have to arrive
and be willing
to be changed
by the light.
The manor stood behind us.
The sea was the sea.
We were three people
who believed in what we were doing
long enough
for it to become real.
I have not forgotten
a single afternoon.