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.