The Best Way | Grandy’s Landing
THE BEST WAY
Why that way, towards the hills,
towards that blinding line as the sun sets,
skein after skein, honking?
Why not out across the sea?
I walk the Old Quay, wondering.
Waders cry in the flashing fire of the saltmarsh.
The glowing sandstone of the low wall
thrums with ancient knowledge.
Yet it is in your high-altitude honking
I find an answer:
Instinct, trust in instinct, it’s the best way…
I take her hand in mine
and we sing.
Paul Beech
Copyright © Paul Beech 2020
Source: The Best Way | Grandy’s Landing