the beach

Now this westerley’s

blown itself out,

let’s drive to the storm beach.


A few brave souls

will be there already,

eyeing the driftwood,


the heaps of frayed

blue polyprop rope,

cut loose, thrown back at us –


What a species –

still working the same

curved bay, all of us


hoping for the marvellous,

all hankering for a changed life.


Kathleen Jamie

from The Overhaul, 2012, Picador Poetry.