Blown About…
(Mousehole, mid-morning, before the rain came…)
Few folks were about near the harbour, the light
Grim with charcoal blusters of cloud in the strong
December wind. Fine rain was due imminently,
As I made my way towards the sea-wall, where the might
Of a winter tide thrashed and complained about its long,
Yet spiteful withdrawal, hurling itself at rocks constantly…
Though buffeted by gusts, my mind was refreshingly keen
But I was not cold. Then shortly a small flock of scavenging
Oystercatchers came into view, alongside one curlew
And a Mediterranean gull, a bird I had never before seen.
Soon I noticed two seals on St Clement’s Island lounging,
As a gannet soared above the turmoil and flew out of view…
Pete Ray
17th December 2024…
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