THE BATHERS
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Beneath the broken heavy hills by the shapeless sparking sea
the odd unerotic angles of nude bathers, pink and bungled,
float on the landscape like lights, like balloons, like migraines.
Scalded shoulders and knees, florid heads and aspirant
bellies, goosepimpled, bulging over marks left by tight
removed suits; their tender feet stumble on the rocks crafted
by the ocean into axes and agents of blunt trauma.
They fit as neatly here as a cheque in an envelope, and in
their small devotions, awkwardly applying sunscreen
or spilling a towel across the harsh pebbled beach, they
are consistent with one another as disappointment and hope.
On the Dalmatian Coast, nude bathing is normal, and tourists of all ages disrobe to lie under the gentle Adriatic sun and bathe in the startlingly clear sea. 'The Bathers' is, in essence, an ekphrastic poem. It seeks to capture the vulnerability and grace of a scene in which people without vanity pursue simple pleasure in a place of raw, harsh beauty.
Originally published in Cordite Poetry Review 60: Silence
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