the wind blew through us. we were small that
day, there and not. sea was scuffed, frothed, whipped,
smear of land far out where blue skirts blue.
wind swept through us. swept us clean, swept us
of tales and ache. we were lost that day,
found but not. one gull, high up, wheeled and
watched. blew through us. we were song that day,
free on the stave, note then note, spume and
a whiff and dried weed, lick and boom of
waves, nudge of groyne. the wind blew through. we
were sand that day, sand and salt and shell
and curled. we were grain that day. wind through
us. glint of sun off the quilt of brine.
we were small and hope. the wind through us