And some time take the time to walk out west
from old St Andrews along the sands,
in a fine mid-August mist with the rain
pressing its pursuit, weighting the air
with water and sparring with sea-spray
until you stand enmeshed by brumedrops,
and the antique-looking-glass sand runs
shimmering on into expanses
beyond your veiled sight, and at your feet
stranded, sanded jellyfish—water made flesh—
redouble the limpid silvery light.
You will never wholly grasp this moment.
It cannot be crystallized in a photograph,
but slips fluidly between the fingers,
leaving a half-disturbed reflection
somewhere between vision and remembrance.
Alice is a lecturer in English literature on a visiting student programme in Oxford and an active musician and dancer. Although she has written poetry for years, she has only recently begun to share it. It can be found in Visual Verse, Places of Poetry, Poetry and Covid and Green Ink Poetry, and is forthcoming in Steel Jackdaw and 192 Magazine. She recently won the Gloucestershire Poetry Society competition, and tweets at @AliceStainer.