Each year a white shell

We walked listening to the sea -

There'd been a low spring tide -

There were hoofprints in the pale yellow sand -

Small clouds were scattered across the hazy blueness of the sky -

The dunes hid their secret kingdoms -

We saw a naked man, walking with a clothed woman -

A boy ran towards the sea -

It was as though the beach would take us to the edge of the world -

Both of us silent -

Leaving our years behind us -

Each year a white shell, left on the sand -

Studland 

March 2026