top of page

On the tide


Kirstie Louise Nickson

I am born of salt and spray,
young limbs give way to
foaming crests
the taste of brine, slick
on my tongue while seagulls
skim the swell.

One day I’ll float
so far from here and waves
will crash against
my rocks until
I crave the solace of

the sea
the sea
the sea

bottom of page