the wave breaks coughs up kelp splashes shingle up the beach rolls stones over brushes out sand catches air in pockets marks the tideline in thick foamy spume leaves with a hiss of bursting bubbles slips back into itself gathers in its pleats to unfurl them again backfilling our footprints proving nothing waits for us
n.b. Night photo was taken to capture the empty street scene, but it came out weird, with evidence of existence of the Yeti…alive and well in East Anglia. It is certainly cold enough in Norfolk for Yeti.
Pubs now open in England, outside drinking only. Short rhyme prompted by photo. No pubs were visited during the making of this moving picture.