David Chadwick

A poem for October 2014

 

Night on the beach

 

We stumble along on the stones

The last storm of winter

Has stirred up the sea

White foam sweeps in

From the black cauldron

Scrambling over sticks and seaweed

Sucking away the sand and shells

 

And then they appear

Glowing points in the darkness

Riding in with each surge

Spreading themselves along the shore

Dancing in the swirling water

Transforming everything with their magic