Gavin Austin
Different Shores
a glaze
of distant gull cries
long shadows
lying purple in clefts
between the dunes
You wander into sight. The breeze fresh and tugging at your hair. White mopped waves crash and boom onto the beach. Barefoot, you saunter along the shoreline, damp sand adhering to your toes. Looking up you smile as Sam, the chocolate Labrador, bounds towards you. Lolloping from the estuary, he throws water and spittle to the wind as he gathers speed. Holding out your hands, you crouch and wait. Sam fixes you with a stare, a pleading stare. You lean back to throw the ball as he whimpers and quivers in anticipation. Your throw is powerful, and as the ball sails through the air, you topple backwards, falling hard onto the cold sand. Catching your breath, you lie back, stare into the twilight sky. You watch clouds surge to their mysterious rendezvous above the darkening ocean.
calling your name
into the salt-winds of dusk
that place
where we now meet
in the depths of dream
About the Author
Gavin Austin lives in Sydney, Australia. He writes short fiction, short plays, and poetry. His work has appeared in many Australian and international publications.