A simple scene: whiteness (the sand)
intruded upon by grey (some rocks).
Far east, a lick of neutrality
stripes north-east from towards The Cove
across the whole bar, missing
the porth by a few degrees
and penetrating The Gugh.
From the porth,
three tongues have tried
to cross the bar, each tasting further
than the last -- a third of the way across;
a half; and then, near to the slip, nearly reaches
the cove’s black edging.
Each has been smashed down upon or pressed,
perhaps like an ox tongue done domestically,
by some agency no longer visible. An image
of energy thwarted by power. Some bits
and pieces of rubble remain unused.
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UNFRAMED GRAPHICS by Lawrence Upton
42 pages; A5 paperback; colour cover
Writers Forum 978 1 84254 277 4
wfuk.org.uk/blog
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