Polurrian Wind
Like ballet dancers, short grasses leaned,
Amidst the cacophony it roared;
Crippled trees creaked under more strain,
Whilst great black-backed gulls soared…
As when an estuary is engulfed by the sea,
The pool-water resembled such tides,
Vomiting waves onto dried out tiles,
Spitting chlorine over the sides…
On the coast path at sunset it chilled my face,
It tugged at me, it wanted its say;
It berated me with its incessant screams
And then took my breath away…
Pete Ray
March 2016
The winds were strong enough not only to bow short grasses like dancers in a ballet but the outdoor pool at Polurrian’s hotel looked like a wave machine had been installed at one end of it.
Later, as a sunset and cloud turned the sky orange and black, the still strong winds lashed at me, as I struggled along the coast path…
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