For Alex Cox
Alice was awake long, long after midnight
on the last day of that last summer
the family spent at the house on the shore.
She watched the moon rise above Penmaenmawr,
and silver the Conwy estuary,
all the way to the tumbled castle
and the walled town. The light lit the warren
in the sand dunes. She imagined, lost somewhere
in the marram grass, a pocket watch glinting.