Issue
9
Page
6
Who would exist where you are,
Bound to leathery Sea Beet
Alive in a sandy wind
Blowing from the pensive waves?
Declaring, by rounded bunches
Like pale hazel nuts,
A bold and fecund presence
Above an inhospitable dune;
You wait for rain.
Withdrawn from the barbeque heat
Into a quiet calcium night,
A world of gulls and picnic parties
Beyond the crisp confining grasses
Continues beneath the sun.