Marsalforn in autumn

Marsalforn glistens in the autumn.
Relieved of summer, the sea turns to itself
And hears again its own voice rushing and rolling
Over the changing shoreline
That now smells vitally of sea-grass and
underwater creatures that crawl among the rocks
where loners walk and meditate the annual change.

The transience of holiday vacates apartments
Resigns them to windy solitude
And thickening films of dust.
Soundless streets are haunted by felines
And hunger-stricken stray old dogs
Rummage in dustbins that offer no relief.

Marsalforn rumbles in the autumn.
The land rises towards the granite cliff face
And waits expectantly for rain.
Soon the waters will rush down the brown debris
Of higher land, and the bay is strewn
With ruined remnants of rain and sea---a wilder look
That somehow gives back to this oppressed haven
Its sense of self-respect.