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Tynemouth Bay

Christopher Barnes, UK


Lifelong days
smoothing pebbles, shells.
I wished I belonged to oars.

These are fetters that you touched
pigeon-wary. Ruined colours now.
Archaeology of holiday ramparts,
tender mumps.

East sun disgorges light,
daystars west.
Memory seasplash
pervasive sea.

Born
I am wedded to salt.
A spoil, rancour stings
in the churn, constant revisiting.

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