A walk on the beach becomes a poem

Sue Watling

by

Tides are line breaks,
ebb flow,
offering in-between spaces.

Waves are rhythms,
fast slow
adding fishy arpeggios.

Whirls of ammonite,
fingers of squid,
fossils for longevity.

Scraps of amber,
faded carnelian,
sifting shingle for imagery.

I taste salt on your tongue,
or maybe tears.
It ends with a stanza of ocean.

This poem contains special formatting. Go here to see it: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/823314375633162947/

Sue Watling is a writer and poet living in the north England, where she keeps honey bees and is currently making the transition from published non-fiction to more creative forms of writing, and in particular, poetry.