ANOTHER PLACE REVISITED AT LOW WATER



‘It is no hero, no ideal, just the industrially reproduced body of a middle-aged man trying to remain standing and trying to breathe.’ Anthony Gormley

 

They are still standing and their slow carapace

of barnacles breathes. Small pools of eaten

razor clams and star fish lie at their feet – fry

dart amongst seaweed fronds and the dead.

An off shore breeze brings the calls of distant

sea birds close. The RNLI flag stiffens

and plastic kites, on the slight headland, swoop –

but the cumulus clouds and the con trails,

across the Atlantic, are almost still.

Wind turbines proliferate on Burbo Bank

and, beyond, along the North Wales coast.

Over the horizon, the world awaits

high tide. Meanwhile, on tricky sands, we move

with care among these icons of cast-iron

steadfastness and promise.

 

 

 

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  1. #1 by Ashen - July 28th, 2017 at 17:29

    I haven’t experienced Gormley’s casts, but your poem gives me an impression of the spectacular impact they must have on that shore, looking out towards the horizon.

  2. #2 by Clive Watkins - August 2nd, 2017 at 11:14

    I’ve never managed to see these figures, despite two attempts (bad weather, illness), so your poem intrigues. I particularly liked the ending: “Over the horizon, the world awaits / high tide. Meanwhile, on tricky sands, we move / with care among these icons of cast-iron /steadfastness and promise”.

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