Debbie Anne Robson
The Long Ride

Restless, unable to sleep
she heads for the shore,
leaving the light on into
the night, a gold circle
of luminosity on the sand.
Beyond that black and
the clip clop of a surfer’s
board on the waves.        

Somewhere
a dog is panting.
Life is like a long board
ride she thinks. The bob
and swell, the tug to
murky depths. Down,
down to where we all
drown.

She will walk until
everything is unfamiliar.
The buildings, the street
lights above the sea wall,
the shadows below. The next
cliff and the one beyond.
The way the waves roll in,
crashing onto a bathing pool
she has never seen before.
To keep moving until her
home looks different
when she returns.

Dawn streaks a fine line
across the sky, pink against
the St Michael’s Mount
castle of clouds. The walker
retraces her steps to earth,
her light blurs to sunshine
and the dog jumps barking
as the surfer comes in to shore.