Pakefield Sea Front

 

 

 

Waves.

 

Waves walking towards me as

 

I sit drinking tea at a pub by the sea

 

Thinking about fish running beneath the surface of the

 

Milky swirl of the tea as I swish my teaspoon around

 

Making whirlpools

 

Kites ripple and twirl around in the sea

 

Sailing boats fly overhead wrapped up

 

In seaweed

 

And wind turbines grow like regal flowers

 

Up through the gaps between the wooden planks

 

Of the table soaked in an ocean of tea

 

Feeding on the scatterings of brown cappuccino sugar

 

Left behind by a bleating sheep

 

Who abandoned pub-garden confinement

 

To bite and grind chunks of reinforced concrete

 

From the gravestones

 

Of recent arrivals.
 
Copyright owned by Jay Cool

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

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