We picked our way down
to Peppercombe bay,
where the cliffs are paprika
and the grey stones wait
quietly, to be ground by the surf;
through the green hush of trees
to the place where there’s only
the wide sky and the salt sea.
Kim is our host at dVerse tonight. The prompt word is “pepper”. Peppercombe bay is one of our local beaches. You can find an image of it here. We didn’t go to Peppercombe this evening, but we were just a little way up the coast – and there were peppercorns garnishing my gin and tonic, so there’s obviously something in the air tonight.
We made a shelter on the beach that day –
do you remember? We walked the shoreline,
gathering driftwood, sea-smoothed, set it
just so, here and not there, building
our sea-shack. The undulations
of the wood let in the bleached
ocean light, and the shadows were knife cut.
Your gannet eyes peered through the cracks.
We sat, backs to the dunes, watching the sea,
the waves forming and folding. We ate yellow cake,
drank hot sweet coffee, warmed our cold hands,
until the tide turned, and the sea came in,
and we wound our way homeward through the dunes,
leaving our shelter for the waves to play with.
Sara McNulty has painted the bar purple, and is looking for poems about our dream homes. This isn’t quite that, but there may be something else later, so it will have to do for now. DVerse, always lives up to its name. Check it out.