Coastal Path.
A winding coastal cicatrice.
Grim grey asphalt, that scars
the stubby headland from Bracelet Bay
to Langland.
Eroded drops shored up
by concrete shoulders
against the sea’s relentless push.
White concrete posts stand like dental bridges
in a many-mouthed rock face.
Prevent death-filled plunges
to gnashing rocks, a salt-sore lick
from the sea’s hungry tongues.
Like a whip stilled in mid-flick
the path undulates in breath pumping rises,
knee-bending slopes.
Along its length, many feet below,
waves chatter. Take mouthfuls of shingle.
Spit them out against grey rock,
whilst sunshine flares across the back
of each undulating rise,
tangles it into ribboned foam.
Tiny needles of spray fan out on the air
tingle upon skin.
Lays a sheen of salt along upper lips,
A slippery grip upon the steel poled railing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem