I woke early yesterday, the house was blue with cold. Then we drove to the sea and watched with envy its wildness, how unyielding it continues toward the shore again and again.
I think I’d like to live near the water, but the sea here frightens me. Nothing breaks it. It seems always full and empty at the same time, or I feel that way when I am watching it.
Wave upon wave. No stillness, no rest. The harbour walls are such a poor measure to take, you know there is not really a fight.
What I long for is the mirror of a lake, the kindness of enclosure.
‘The lighthouse says, Listen.
I thought I had no limits,
could look indefinitely at the longing
light lays on water.
Now I want boundaries;
a hedge, plums, more than enough.’