Hope Street, St Andrews
it's a sudden heft of light –
a slant warmth thrown between
walled clouds
a mouthful of salt, the first dip
as the sea takes you in
and you kick out -
the first note of a song, how your breath
rises, meets your heart as it flies open
a stranger's touch
the brush of a cat's tail
on your arm
'are you all right?'
Coming home, stepping
these same slant stones, I know
hope's hard won:
wanting will not bid it come,
and not when you need it most:
but then, just for a moment
something in you loosens,
starts up again, larger,
so love seems again within your reach
the way you might feel someone's hand
curling round yours inside your pocket.