Shingle Sea-Shore
Illustrated by Ella Clayton. The pebbled bank is a natural, steep descent to the water below.
The rocks are cool and polished, buffeted by years of turbulence.
The sky is silvery with threats of rain and momentary glimmers of sunshine.
The breeze is chilling; too cold
To sit.
My arms are dusted with salty fragments
and grains of unavoidable sand.
A handful of sand is a million different stories.
Each granule has embarked on a journey so distinct.
To look meticulously is to experience a centralisation,
A unification of pathways;
A synthesis of expeditions.
To look more closely at that beige expanse
Is to see an interfusion of contrasting colours.
From this vast coastline I have chosen this spot.
From this spot, this handful of sand.
Within my palm these hundred grains.
They and I are much the same,
Who knows where we can wander from here?
I drop my sand,
Brush off my hand,
And look towards the incessant waves.