Oily colours float on a flaccid sea.
Over a shallow tank, one arm length square,
she dips, wipes, flicks the droplets to disperse
a fleet of globular boats,
across the meniscus.
Each one will trawl in her carrageen ocean
for a holding cradle of bull gall while
seaweed soup buoys up her pigment vessels.
With a wire she navigates in twirls and twists
among the floating colours. They are cajoled
into elastic patterns.
As gently as a mother with a sleeping child,
she covers them. She lifts and shows
a captured fleet,
aground forever on a paper sheet.
© Sue Lansdell