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TYNEMOUTH LONGSANDS:
AUGUST 2003

 

Beneath a coat flapping in the wind,

sand drifting into hollows abandoned

by families of picnickers,

a boy and a girl shelter

in the womb of first love.

 

The white August sea

roars its warning of Autumn to come.

 

Forty years ago we were caught

by the same cold north wind,

dunes dulled by a dark

cloud crowded sky,

hands locked together

in a sense of isolation.

You and I cocooned against the world.

 

That was our castle, our fortress,

our protective skin.

Outside the world moved, changed.

The ebb and flow, darkness and light.

Stone into sand.

Inside we were invisible.

 

The years have passed.

The tide has turned and turned again.

The sand has shifted, grain by grain.

But here, in this familiar wind,

love remains, shines as bright

as a Spring sunrise.

 

In the wet sand, I once again write

your name next to mine.

 

Poem: Geoff Holland 2003

 

 

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