Saturday, May 09, 2015


The battlement;
Northumbrian buttress,
barricade to the North sea's assault,
a perpendicular blockade.
Formed in the grinding of gales
and turbulent waves,
the thunderous wind
and the prising fingers of ice.

This hard, war worn soldier
repels the onslaught
of salty troops
only the least
of its shield.
And yet, in its aged
battle scarred wrinkles,
it wombs the eggs
of squawking gulls, kittiwakes
and grateful guillemots.
Their guano drips
like the ribbonned medals
on a war hero
in this peace
between tides.

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