Monday, 3 August 2020

beached

beached


the sea speaks with the shrieks of children

and gulls raucous upon icecream cornets 

folding blues into whites 

into the coves of waves running

like the roars of caved trumpets

heralding the unpicking of the sky’s bobbin

across screaming seams torn with a knife’s horizon

that i spy from a deckchair striped in snooze

feet upped hatted and as red as

a raspberry sorbet melting

drunk of the sun’s plum breath

eyes like piss holes in the sand

salt-hidden as an X in a pirates dream

a parody of shiver me timbers jim lad

and so i am 

fast asleep 

in the deep end

buried under warm sand

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