Standing in the North Sea
The weight of water grips my calves
It's an icy anklet, a chilly shackle
Dropping a look I see
Two stumps the colour of pig's lard
The ghastly pallor of steamed octopus
I feel like the top of a mangrove tree
Surveying my varicose roots
The sand is a shifty floor
Continually sweeping itself
Sifting the hiss of shattered seashells
Like atomised lives, shapeless, reduced to nothing
In the greylag sea that grinds lives like a quern
Like atomised lives, shapeless, reduced to nothing........great expressive
Good one. I ve never been there but my ankles froze. Ummm...i thought i detected an oil slick...the dead animals. Then again my imagination is wild like the North Sea
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A marvelous description of the sea.Most poetic!