Nothing for your pocket here:
these bricks with sea-smoothed
edges, blocks of terracotta butter
covering the sand. I push at lumps
of grey and black, my boot seeking
the crunch of razor clam. A derelict
factory, reduced to rubble-crumbs
now buffers these unsteady dunes,
heaves them back on unnatural
shoulders, obliterating pebble, shell.
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Another stunning poem by Rebecca Goss and beautiful picture too from the natural world of pebbles and stones.
Thank you Wendy! It’s not all factory rubble at Crosby. Antony Gormley’s ‘Another Place’ is quite something. Worth a visit.
Thanks Wendy. You can just make out a couple of Gormley’s iron men in the background of this slow-shutter photo of a wet dog.
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