My childhood lies
here
wrapped in the salty
softness of sleep
under the gorse
sharp leaves
in the twig stick
hollows
it is the sleep of
long walks and uphill pedalling
of swallowing the
wind
of pocketing
of shell sifting
the savoury sleep of
good eating
of vinegar and
baking
under the
brandishing blue
in the cupping
sandstone
the sleep of those
who fish in the rippling dark
who swim translucent
and rough towel
who go sandyfooted
to bed regardless
and wake blinking
into the sun
under
blanketing tide
in the brine bright
morning
This feels very warm, Mikaela
ReplyDeleteThis is a delightful poem! I really enjoy the strong evocation of childhood and some fabulous images.
ReplyDeleteSo wonderful!
ReplyDelete