POEM TITLE
Winged Victory
POEM
I found a seabird splayed out on the sand
strangling in a mess of fishing line
Why should I have to walk (I thought)
and strapped its wings around my waist
They fluttered, flapped, fell limp, flapped again
heaved me high above Blackness on Sea
I crowned myself Princess of Possibility
gliding around with nothing in this world to fear
Then down below I spied a thrashing mass of trash
The wings stopped dead, upended, plunged!
I hit the water and the gyre of rubbish gulped me down
then spat me back to let the wings break free
I was stretched out on the sea
strangling in a mess of plastic dreck
What’s happened to my legs (I cried)
and tried to grab hold of a passing log
A mock of gulls joined with the chortling wings
their raucous chorus rising loud and clear
Snatcher
Never forget who wears the plumage here
I
POEM TITLE
The Conchology of Blackness on Sea
POEM
The Conchology of Blackness on Sea
Shell
It can keep a nervous nature safe,
blunt the edge of a steel knife
but is perforated by creatures
as soft as the human tongue.
Cockles
dig holes in the sand
with their natural spades.
They’re adept at jumping and
do anything to avoid conflict.
Towers
false and true. Spiral around until
they come to their pinprick points.
Take care, they inveigle their way into
all environments.
Limpets
stick to whatever provides a firm
hold. They may sink into a depression
to protect their vulnerable edges.
It is difficult to detach them from their vacuum.
Unique Specimens
Raise a glass to them
in The Lobster Pot.
They are your most cherished collectibles.