South Bay ...

I walked past the churchyard where you can trace the flight of gulls -

Past the wintering hotels -

The glimpses of empty lounges -


I stood outside the Clifton hotel, remembering the poet -

The wind followed me across the beach -


I held a pebble in my hand -

Warming it in my hand -


It was like writing something true -

Finding the words -


Each one found a dark shore -

Each one warmed in my hand -


November 2919


Scarborough