Memories of a Summer Festival (from 'Remember, Me?')

The final notes ring round the harbour,
softened by the metronome lapping
of the monochrome sea against a boat.
I tread as lightly as tired legs allow,
through the stamped grass,
irrigated with piss and stale beer.
I survey a crop of plastic pint cups.
spent husks of a summer festival
far from home.

You came to me
told me tales of the sea
and returned my gift,
gave me music so I could dance.
Your laughter followed
the lights around the bay
each paired with shimmering twin,
each less luminous in the pull of dawn.
Soon it will be time to leave,
and we will take one shared moment
from the net we cast
and pass into ordinary life.
I look back across the sand
and smile for the hand
that found me there,
alone,
on the beach,
far from home.