Friday, May 28, 2004

Newcastle, 1986

A damp grey, of speckled sand
and tangled black
dried by the sun.
Scrambling ants
kicking sand.
I feel this place and I are one.

A hill of green - spartina grasses
tops a jumbled tide-strewn sand.
A swallow sweeps
in fluttering passes
and cares not which is beach
or man.

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