Eroded sand, entry sliding to the sea,
Coated with a blue mirror, white clouds move across the strand.
Broken by rippled textures, of waves from the past.
Curledseaweeds left stranded, washed over and left to dry.
Tumbled stones reveal hidden faces, a shell holds a souvenir of salty sea.
The grey twisted wood, that drifted, lies drying in the wind.
As walkers walk below holidays by the sea.
Ciaran Burke
Clogga Strand 9th August 2017 Beyond forests and fields, the short strand met a stone stage, where fishermen throw a hook to […]
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Whitestrand 23rd August 2017 A wall, a wall, no immigrants call, the waves erode the present to reveal the forest of the […]
Dublin on a rainy night. The wet film plays with the coloured lights. The streets go quiet. The city is washed, bathing […]
