Morning mist lingers
Across the dunes
At Skildersgat ridge,
To the azure Indian seas,
Baleen lolling in the tranquil waters,
Blowing ballast and stress
as they calve and nurse their young.
All along Jager’s Walk
The white caps roll,
Lifted to dance and splash in the stiff spring wind.
All along the rugged coast
The Hobie Cats flash their vivid sails.
Dipping, righting, winking in and out
Of this bright spring False Bay sun,
That tugs at your soul from the bottom of the world.
