stone, stone, shell, flint

the rattle of a beach

of beach steps

on stones

the endless stone rattle

walking

beaches

groyne divided

beaches

And the waves

of a leaden sea

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There were those moments

pressed

against a Cornish rock

                in beach blackness

                with the shush of the rippling waves

                nearby in the night

lying

in a Sussex garden

                with the hot sun

                dappling our backs

parked

on a Ditchling hill

                with town lights

                spread below

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