One Day at a Time

Each day brings a new tide.

Imperceptibly, our grief is washed away;

broken up – broken down

into its smallest parts.

 

The beach looks clean;

wet sand smoothed, packed flat

ready to be walked on.

We leave careful footprints

along the ridges.

 

A stray piece will catch us,

scratch us unaware –

the razor edge of a shell

or Lego from a cargo-fall twenty years ago,

that will not stop washing ashore.

 

 

Viewfinder 

I do not dream the sea anymore.

Its shoreline exhalations do not call

into my dormant mind to bring

me word of gulls and shoals of fish.

 

I track the waveform paths

through a Tower scope that restricts me

to a given axis of rotation and permitted

range of view.

My surveillance of the watercalm

 

is wasted; shredded nets

and broken lobster pots

trail uselessly through my sleep.

 

 

About the Author:

Penny Blackburn lives in the North East of England and writes poetry and short fiction. Her publications include pieces online in Bangor Literary Journal, Atrium, Black Bough and Ink, Sweat & Tears and in print with Paper Swans Press, Reader’s Digest, Poetry Society News, Broken Spine  and Maytree Press.

She is on Twitter and Facebook as @penbee8