The Steely Channel At Rye Harbour…
From the dunes, groynes descended towards the ocean
Upon Camber Sands at low tide
And the Channel fidgeted and shivered
Its pallid hues in the feeble light
On a cold morning in March.
In the shallows gulls and waders with strutting motion
Within Rye Harbour squawked and cried
And the Channel agitated and quivered
Its weak silver-grey, hapless and contrite
On a threatening morning harsh…
And distant spectres of pylons in the mist lurked,
Whilst the distant Dungeness power station irked
One’s mind, the monstrosity depressing and callous
Beside the pale ocean, listlessly tremulous…
Pete Ray
17th March 2023
Cold, curious and windy with light bursts of rain on Rye’s beach area.
Looking left, Camber Sands with its dunes and groynes looked desolate at low tide, some birds crowded in the shallows of a strange pallid sea but beyond lay the power station and its accompanying pylons…
Uncomfortable…
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.