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.