Sidmouth High-Tide…
Horizon was clear
Air Force blue,
Which lightened, watered down
As it neared and dulled
To a miserable, indistinct
Turquoise, pausing only
To muddy, to slur, to spread,
As a weak brown mass pulled….
A tidal tendency,
Twisting eastward,
Leading edge curved up
As it rose and was baulked
By battle-line of packed stones.
An unremarkable challenge,
It was sucked, dragged and spewed
By a sea with tongues forked…
Pete Ray…
Sidmouth Sea Front…
Reminded me of school craft lessons
Using cardboard
Brought in by the conscientious.
Boxes, once filled by
Cereals, Oxo-cubes, jellies,
New shoes, tea-bags and custard powder,
The original recycling
By the capricious…
Resembled an ad hoc settlement, assembled
Using paint and appendages
On containers for provisions.
Buildings of slotted boxes,
Houses, hotels, churches,
Cottages, factories, bus-shelters,
The original model village
Of childhood visions…
Pete Ray
Visiting Sidmouth, Devon, February 2006…
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