In the distance

the green tops to the chalkwhite cliffs

slope down to the sea

behind countless breakwaters

wading out through low waves

their wooden posts testament

to the shifting stones of time

Below the grey sky

the bluegrey water rattles the beaches

sloping down to the sea

between stark black breakwaters

mute guardians of the coast

each wooden barrier m...

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Between the wooden breakwaters

I sit on the flinty stones

to watch the grey sea

waves rattling the beach

That foaming water

that was once the horizon

where I sailed

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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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White beaches and bent Palm trees,

Bath warm water and hot sand,

Ice cold beer, the scent of blossom,

The sound of fire lit live bands.

Humidity and waterfalls,

A Milkworm eaten from a leaf,

The mud, the rain, the cramp, the sweat,

The view from at the peak.

18 hour coach journeys,

The illness and the sick,

Your shuttle bus is a dump truck, and

Your camer...

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