I Can See the Sea from the Front Window

I can see the sea from the front window.
It’s just at the bottom of the garden.
Over the fence,
Past the road,
Down the steps,
Across the sand,
There it is.
Sometimes a passing bus obscures it,
Or a throng of sun-worshippers camp in front of it,
Or the men from the council trim the verge by it.
But if I stand on my toes,
Looking very closely,
Exercising a bit of imagination,
I can see the sea from the front window.