Dunes by Nick Drake

Your heart is more complicated
than the coastline of Norway;
but then you decide to describe
a place you had forgotten
until this moment, a secret beach
discovered by luck or chance,
the long curved shore exactly answering
to the description of the waves,
a far echo of Atlantic ultramarine, salt and glitter
returning home at last
just as you say: There we could be
nudists nesting in a sand dune's heat and hush
of two freak waves in step
that cancel each other out
as if sea stood still and listened
for one strange moment
to the truth;
afterwards, on tide-ribbed sand we'd find
six eggs unbroken in a box,
a cornelian the colour of light,
and a milk-carton from Quebec.