Sunday, 5 April 2015

The Blue Gate

Go on; push it open.

I know it looks as though it'll tip off its hinges any minute;
but so, to be fair, do you, and so, for my sins, do I.

Take the winding path through the marram to the East Strand,
past the wind-fed flails of viper's-bugloss.

Leg it barefoot down the dune like a loon.
Keep on going till your toes reach the tide.

It's a path once followed by saints
and more eager lovers than we could ever count.

Feel the water envelop your feet.
Sink them into the eddying sand.

Go on; you know you must.

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