• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 09
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Understanding Masefield

I’ve been too long
absent from the sea
and my body yearns for it.

I find myself listening
for the susurrus of surf
within the whisper of windblown trees
and straining to hear the cries
of the seagulls that wheel
above the council flats.

I find myself craving fish,
and peppermint rock;
my tongue lingers
upon the taste of salt
especially on chips.

I find myself stroking pebbles,
thinking of Brighton,
or letting sugar slide, like sand,
between my fingertips;
wondering how one makes a castle
of something that dissolves.

I find myself distracted
by the scent of candy floss
and sniffing at water;
seeking the briny.


Understanding Masefield

In all these actions
I am blindfolded
knowing that, if I look,
I will find myself, still,
absent from the sea.