Hauling Away…
(Sandsend, near Whitby)
Sandsend's two pallid becks
Slip into the ravenous ocean,
Which entices
With its devious devices
Of aqua, striped blue
And a gentle frothing of white,
In its display of false pretences:
And the ragged clumps of wood
Raise an intriguing, if fanciful notion…
The groyne posts protrude from compacted sand
Like shades,
As time itself fades,
Upon silhouetted hauling, heaving and the harnessing of contraband
Perhaps, from the North Sea’s wilder night-time shore…
The smuggling shapes still lean, hapless and awry
Like fractures,
Or weathered structures:
Once grim haulers, heavers and harnessers and their salvaging chore,
Fearful of the excisemen’s hue and cry…
Pete Ray
September 2020
The posts looked like the memorial shadows of smugglers from Sandsend’s past, hauling in their contraband from a pleasant, if dubious North Sea…
Just an idea in my left-field mind…
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