From the hillside
a John Martin apocalypse!
Inferno of molten light
slithers of yellow cirrus
hiss into the sea, look
the beach is on fire
duskwind picks up
warm sea-heat, passing
over the cool earth
in the scape of this land
there is no touch of man
the sea remains sea
shrugging off the light
the colour of a choked head
blue grey black
