Spectral Boat…
The unpredictable, shifting tides across Mounts Bay
Lure one’s attention into a curious captivation,
With their movement, their degrees of irritability and vast array
Of hues: the reflective blues, the coarse greys in anticipation
Of cruel storms, surging waves and not inconsiderable threat…
But the jaundiced sea might be discoloured like poison gas
And the horizon pierced by a weak, charcoal, silhouetted form,
A Newlyn trawler, harbour bound, a leaden, spectral mass,
A sinister intrusion, fish laden, emerging from squall and storm…
Pete Ray
14th May 2025…
An old image of mine taken of Mount’s Bay from Mousehole, of what looks like a ghost boat, emerging through a yellowish haze…
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