Forty degree tarmac
greeting highway on heat,
burning feet on blacktop
as we follow the tracks of the elephant herd
as they trample their way and they curtail the waves
as they lie in the breakers, congealed into stone.
Who is finding haven
down the road to Denmark?
On the path to Green Pool, all the sharks held at bay
swim a shoal of red surfers who worship the sun
as they alternate bathing with lotion then tread
forty degree tarmac,
greeting highway on heat,
burning feet on blacktop

Take off on wedge-shaped tails,
sea eagle stops the sky,
escaping her eyrie
as we drive on the bitumen, tracing our path
on the highway that leads down the coast to the town
as we sight the bald tree with its high-hatted nest,
who is finding haven
down the road to Denmark?
As she scours the white tops in search of a fish
as she dips in the waves with her death-catching claws
and then turns from a dive to seek up for the clouds:
Take off on wedge-shaped tails,
sea eagle stops the sky,
escaping her eyrie.

Grandmother, grandfather,
two life-sized dolls sitting
cuddled up on a bench.
As we seek out the coolness of cafe behind
while they’re tied in the heat of the afternoon sun,
were they models from here who a wizard had trapped?
who is finding haven
down the road to Denmark?
They’re compelled to await in the sun all their days
while the tourists are drawn into op shops for gifts
and they sit until dusk, when the shop takes them in,
grandmother, grandfather,
two life-sized dolls sitting
cuddled up on a bench.

17 July 2024