Bone Beach
By Philip Sidney
- 2414 reads
Steel iced water laps
between long fingers of land,
colder than old time.
Glacial winds bite,
buoyant ducks whoop, wrapped in their
Eider-downy warmth.
Concrete huts cluster,
iron clad against the cold,
rusty, salt crusty.
Shingle demarcates
the overlapping edge of
a shifting shale shore.
Gravel footfalls crunch,
find bones amongst the stones
spiny skeletons
washed up whole, flesh sucked
by seals who must have fought these
tough unbroken fish
razor teeth intact,
silver of scales exchanged for
long arctic-white death.
Sit inside a room
made from metal, glass and wood,
sip buttery soup.
Across the table
your eyes hold all the colours,
let us live for now.
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Comments
a sensual walk through a
a sensual walk through a moment in time, but which is also a place. Well done.
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Love every word of it.
Love every word of it. Appeals to all the senses and so intricate how you've fused a relationship inside this place too.
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I heard the sound of the
I heard the sound of the gravel footfall crunch- as Vera says appeals to all the senses.
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Interesting details and a lot
Interesting details and a lot of meaning at the end. Like it, Philip!
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Hi Helen
Hi Helen
And don't you think the rocks look like dead sheep?
Jean
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You seem to share
You seem to share observations about how cold affects us. It can make me feel an inward resentment at having to suffer it and also raise questions in me about how others deal with.
Strong imagery conveyed of the desolation of a winter seahorse and the relief at being able to escape from it into the warm.
Well done.
Alan
Ringwood
Great Britain
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