On a groyne a bird watches the ocean,
the pebbles, the receding foam of the last wrack
revealing wave, the pier-concealing
fret and sees, keeping company with her dog,
young Sally (this season’s saddest tourist).
She avoids the disputed territory of her warring parents,
her tidal moods, all too much to be sealed in a caravan.
So, early, before the bickering begins,
before the daily erosion of herself begins,
(small, smaller, smallest),
she places a blue plastic bag onto sea-smoothed pebbles,
sits, opens a packet of crisps and has the attention of her dog.
The gull on the groyne that watches the ocean,
the pebbles, the receding foam of the last wrack
revealing wave, the pier-concealing fret,
cock–headed and one-eyed,
observes the empty strand.
Issue 7
COASTAL BLUR
Ivan McGuinness is a poet living in Oxford. He has an MA in Creative Writing from The Open University. He has previously been published in Obsessed With Pipework #98.