SITTING SPENT

Sitting spent, watching notions
Bubble between stones and stillness;
The sylvan skipper
Through the amethyst dusk,
The never-ticked rarity.

Breathing brecks, waning oceans
Troubled by chelp and chillness;
Waiting for wonder,
Under the wheel and whelm
Of all that is fairest.

Whispering weeds, sinuous motions,
Stubble rebristles a witness;
Upright in the melt of sunder,
Moonsink and dwindling footfall
On the cambered towpath.