Near The Gugh where the bar ceases to be
itself and becomes island, the sand lifts up
towards, eventually, Kittern Hill top --
not quite -- a small pyramid, or a smashed cairn,
made so in its failing by blustering sea
last night; rollers from the north now pushing
the edges of the bar to knock over
this suggestion of Man’s shaping. Rollers
hit at the south of calming space. Not long
two sea tantrums can join up with themselves,
mouthing into each other’s open mouths.
The porth is turbulent for strong sharp wind,
white crossing it intermittently way out
from the barrier before that barrier’s felt
by a blind strength lunging at what’s in front,
the cover relatively still, but most ready,
the weight of the moon within it one supposes.
A long, swelling wave advancing steadily.
A heavy swelling wave that breaks on a coast.
Heaviness that was powerful over-reaching.
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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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