Last Post: Holkham Beach
Sometimes, when storms muster the tides,
I can recall that there were more of us;
we were unified. But, with each pull and push,
time displaced me; pickling brine
and sharp winds took my softness
and left me a gribbled skin.
I hear them say I look like Mary, the one
from over Walsingham way. They’re wrong,
but still they come and garland me with shells
and seek meaning in the way that even
the shingle avoids my gaze.
The sea steadily worries at my feet
wearing me piece by piece.
And the day can’t come soon enough.
The day can’t come soon enough.
(This poem was first published on Ink, Sweat & Tears)
John C. Nash finally settled down as a self-employed bookbinder and writer in Northampton, England. His poetry has been published in various magazines including Antiphon, Cake, The Delinquent, Verse Kraken and Lighthouse . He co-edited the anthology ‘Making Contact’ for Ravenshead Press and is currently working on a collaborative project with the photographer Sam Webster.