The Isle of Wight,
climbing to its highest point.
I'm yards behind the leading boy
who stops, triumphant, on the brow
and looks around, seems mesmerised,
then looks at us:
"Up here!" he calls, "Come quick!"
and waves his arms, shouts: "You can see
the whole wide world from here!"
It's early days of space probes; images
of earth afloat in space are cropping up
in papers and elsewhere. I too can see
what he has misperceived:
the island as the Earth
suspended in an azure space
of Solent and the sea.
Except for this - he sees it too -
our Earth is tethered, not quite free:
down by The Needles space runs out
and isle and mainland seem to link.
"What's happened there?" he asks
and points. (Quite solemn now.)
"Bit dodgy that, I think!"
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
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