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
