Hi Sally,
I like some of the suggestions Bob has made, but I wouldn't want to see any
drastic changes here. I think this works very well. The last two lines, in
fact the whole old man image, is a good one.
One nit, and I'm being a birdwatching bore here so you're quite entitled to
tell me to go and get a life (!), is the oystercatcher, or rather "a shoal
of fish", because I'm pretty sure they live almost exclusively on cockles
and the like. But I'd change the fish rather than the bird, because it
immediately created a vivid picture in my mind, being such a noticeable and
noisy bird.
But anyway, I'm rambling.
Best wishes,
Matt
>From: Sally James <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: new sub Wales
>Date: Mon, 21 Aug 2006 17:11:04 +0100
>
>Wales.
>
>The mountains don’t swoop down to the sea
>here like kamikaze seagulls. They tumble and fall
>splash against boulders in the raw wind, send
>spray bouncing and spitting onto the beach.
>Oyster catchers balance on rocks, wait patiently
>for a change of tide, a shoal of fish. Mackerel
>unaware of the dangling hooks, bite bait that beckons
>their silver fins a flash of light squirming
>on the end of a line. The sea, grey, even in summer,
>frowns like an old man with white whiskers
>sparkling pebbles with his tears. And all the time
>the boats rock in his arms, and the sun wears
>clouds for shades. I capture this impression,
>pastel in haste the silver shine on ancient granite
>and before the old man can change his mind
>and swallow the sun.
>
>Sally James
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