The Coastguard’s Watch…
(Porthtowan, East Cliff…)
A cold marble seat, an incongruous memorial,
White, flecked and at the edge of a headland
At Porthtowan, was where I sat to look out.
The ocean was unsettled, its tide like a peril,
Hauling white-tipped blue across hard waiting sand
And there was cloud and distant mist lurking about…
A cold, gusting wind buffeted and roared,
Whipping at my jacket and pulling at my hair,
Taking my breath away in its cacophony.
Distant gannets, flying low over the sea, rarely soared,
Their diving and feeding severely impaired.
Soon though and tense, I sensed supernatural company…
Pete Ray
19th November 2023…
The site of a coastguard’s lookout hut also remembers a suicide in 1970 and the cold white bench stands proud at Porthtowan.
I have watched a couple of sunsets from there but on 18th November 2023, the wind thrashed at me as I sat and watched in late afternoon.
An involuntary shiver may not have been solely the result of what the weather threw at me…
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