Sunday, 17 April 2022

arriving at the sea side

 arriving at the sea side


and then the rolling hills give way

through the fast gaps in the trees

to an horizon sparkling

way beyond the roller coaster

the bus chugging closer to

the children’s joy shrieking

for the flags you see so

triangularly stiff on the non-breeze

bouncing on the seats down the last hill

down to barry island or was it porthcawl

the closer of the two but we thought

the more rough and ready than the elegant

barry island where they built a butlin’s 



all faded now of course the memories

and sadly the actual 

the chugging days have left

over the horizon comes the smoke of wars

a bloody child’s knee long trousered now

fingering the coins in a pocket turning over

the price of everything and the value of nothing

so said doom and we did not disagree


the roller coaster drops stop at the water’s end

and we get off for the last time

the rides are closed 

on a red slipped sign

the

summer’s season is over

the paint is curling

the gates are padlocked



hands on the railing we stare

you can always trust in rust

he said

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