Archive for January, 2011
AFON MENAI
Posted by David Selzer in Poetry on January 26th, 2011
Immemorially, at the ebb tide’s turn,
they pull for the bank, moor, wade, cast and wait.
(Terns flock, screeching). They haul the full net
to the edge of the sand. Kneeling, they pluck out
the shrimps, prawns, crawfish and return the rest.
The water slowly rises about them.
GATESHEAD/NEWCASTLE
Posted by David Selzer in Poetry on January 26th, 2011
The Baltic, Gateshead © SCES 2004
Through the open hotel window, above
the river’s lulling sounds and revellers’ shouts,
kittiwakes cry, nesting on the art gallery.
I think of the oceans they have crossed
only to be here. Sometimes, when I
wake in the night, I cannot hear you breathe.
CROSBY
Posted by David Selzer in Poetry on January 26th, 2011
Another Place ©SCES 2008
We crunch through razor shells and squelch through
blackish silt – there is coal in the drenched sand -
to reach the artist’s cast iron avatars.
They are steadfast against anglers, vandals,
local Tories, jet skiers, the Coastguard,
and the RSPB – but not the wind
or the sea. Some are rusting deeply,
some barnacled already, some sinking
or rising – others missing on this
shifty shore. They have watched the North Sea.
Now, from here, they can see Snowdonia,
The Skerries, Queenstown, the New World -
and, some, when the tide is in, sea creatures
in their wilderness of oblivion.
Above, ships pass and the wind farm turns.
LLANBADRIG
Posted by David Selzer in Poetry on January 26th, 2011
Shipwrecked on his way to Ireland, the saint
was washed ashore to the foot of the cliff:
founded the church we walk uphill towards
between hedgerows of honeysuckle
and meadowsweet. The church squares to the wind.
A cemetery of slate edges the cliff.
We look down. A seal bobs by the lobster pots.
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