by PAT SAUNDERS
dad’s calm hand
clutches mine
his southern british lilt
coaxes tiny
crawling
snail-like me
onto ancient timber planks
beneath which grasping wind and
wild water wait to swallow me
look up he says
I baulk
glimpsing whitewash
reaching up
between crumbling slats
hesitantly
my wide blue eyes
peek
up from under a beach blonde fringe
I gasp
focussing on the structure’s length snaking towards the horizon
does it end there?
the smiling teenager
rod in one hand
sand whiting in the other
gazes from the mantle
the jetty envelopes her either side
the end cut off by the photo frame
– Geographe Bay, South–west Western Australia