Thursday, 5 August 2010


The North Sea bleached the tan
From my sandals,
And glued the beach to their souls,
As it rolled over
The damp dunes;
Furrowing still further
The brow of this eroding coast.

And after dangling
My boy ankle deep
In the retreating tide
I carried him back
To the island of towels
We’d housed near the new concrete

He was initially unsure
Of the golden grains
But after a while
He gently stretched his fingers,
And with sand clinging to his skin
He began to appreciate
The seaside.

We ate fried fish and chips
And dipped a little further
Into the silicon grit,
And the collective memories
Of holiday makers,
Before taking our leave
And returning home.

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