Photo by Ray Bilcliff on Pexels.com

There was nothing.
Wide emptiness:
The sea, the wind,
the waves, whipped and white,
and us, small in this vastness.


Oyster catchers are calling. Wait.
They’re there, among the rounded stones,
neatly searching. And, suddenly,
an unexpected flock of plovers –
lifting – cutting through the horizontal
lines of sea and sky and strand –
flouncing and flickering –

and a herring gull dances
on the very edge of the wind;
and a curlew pauses for a second
and moves on. A cormorant spreads
black umbrella wings to dry –

this barren place is bountiful.

Sherry at earthweal asks us to write about the places that nourish our wild hearts. She’s very kindly used two of my poems in her prompt – I’m honoured and delighted – and it would seem churlish not to write a response! When I need wild, I go to the sea. I’m lucky to live close enough to get there easily. It’s always the same and always different.

I’m also posting this for Lisa’s OLN over at dVerse.


34 thoughts on “Wild

  1. This poem is balm to my heart. I am fortunate to live by the sea too, and I drank in every image and bird……….thank you for this heart-lift, and for allowing me to feature your two wonderful poems.


  2. This is exquisitely drawn, Sarah! I especially like; “an unexpected flock of plovers –lifting – cutting through the horizontal lines of sea and sky and strand.”💝💝

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I, too, live close to the sea, and I agree, “it is always the same, and always different”. Gulls, eagles and crows are all we get on our Pacific NW beaches. Empty can be bountiful, and silence can be deafening. A great poem, thanks.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Pingback: Wild – Nelsapy

  5. I’m a lover of birds and I could picture every one. I love your description of the “black umbrella wings” of the cormorant. That’s exactly what they look like! A beautiful write, Sarah.

    Liked by 1 person

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