Gull Beach

The three of gulls have flapped it southwards.

With eyes that see fairly and clearly

Only now and again

I look upon the seas cold castle and gallery.

It’s beginning to rain.

A cavalcade of slack-skinned cattle

Surprise me coming down the grey platform,

Sand spreading beneath their hooves,

Shaggy burgundy and white,

These slow moving bone casements,

Cattle breath, dung and death.