26 MARCH 1994, Page 38

Jellyfish, Elounda Bay

The jellyfish are drifting to the land: Fluttered by faint currents they have reached The clear shallows already, the ramps of sand — A fleet of liquid cupolas, sliding, beached.

Three swim-bladders on each dome suggest a face That, mouthless, wan, stares up at the hot sky; They had no purpose floating to this place, Nothing can pierce such blank transparency.

And yet their frilled skirts lift on the waves Tensely reciprocal; beneath filmed skin A scarlet maze of tube and sphincter sieves Whatever invisible shoals the tide herds in.

Inert, unwithering, all afternoon, Salt silken areolae mouthed by air, The jellyfish will lie, until the moon Ignites their cycladic masks and they strike from shore.

David Hartnett