Island

(from William Golding's 'Lord of the Flies')

Shore fledged with palm trees
Stood, leaned, reclined against the light
Green feathers were high up in the air
Coarse grass covered the ground beneath
Torn everywhere by the upheavals of fallen trees
Scattered decaying coconuts and palm saplings
Behind was the darkness of the forest proper
Open space of the scar
Ralph stood one hand against a grey trunk
Screwed up his eyes against the shimmering water
Perhaps a mile away
Out there
The white surf flinked on a coral reef
Beyond that the open sea was dark blue
Still as a mountain lake was within the irregular arc of coral the lagoon
Blue of all shades, shadowy green, purple
Endless apparently thin stick was beach between palm terrace and water
Palm and beach and water drew to a point at infinity
Always, almost visible, was
The heat