POLURRIAN BAY, CORNWALL: MILD THREAT...

Mild Threat

A quibbling expanse of irritable ocean

Shoves enticing breakers

Of pallid turquoise

Onto Polurrian’s gritty shore,

Littering it, skittering across it,

Dishevelling it, levelling it:

The whites of its eyes leaping at and tussling

With stolid, stubborn rock,

Tousling its angry froth,

Renting and muscling,

Watched by dull grasses

And March clouds…

The stirring depth of culpable ocean

Raps unending waves

Of squalid turquoise

Into Polurrian’s gritty core…

Pete Ray

Arrived at Polurrian Bay and struggled down uneven steps to its beach, where dank grasses on low cliffs overlooked a dark sea, lightening to a pale turquoise, licking at the small beach and crashing against cliff-rock. 

Neat…