Cushendun Beach #2

The sound of thousands of pebbles
Round and hard, rubbing together.
Pulled by the sea, the relentless sea.
Pulled into the shallows,
Then flung back to the shore.
An endless repetition
All day, all night, back and forth.

The pewter plate sea reflecting the sky
Sometimes a white crested fury, pounding the shore.
Rushing the dunes up to timbers and wire
But always retreating to regather forces.
Then, as if nothing had happened,
Returning to workmanlike calm.

Pushing and pulling, back and forth.
Rounding the pebbles,
Smoothing the shards.
Thousands of glistening beads,
The proud remains of glacial headlands
That towered and loomed over the sea,
Watching for rivals in sunny Kintyre.

Cushendun Beach

The beach of Cushendun
Always present inside me
It comes back in waves
Advancing, receding
With a rasping, tearing sound
As pebbles roll back to the sea.

I've walked the beach one thousand times or more
Picked up sheep skulls
Popped seaweed blisters
It always clear my mind
Injects calm into my racing heart.

I wish the beach could be inside of me.
Or I could be the oily Cormorant.
Diving down, coming up
Never seeming tired.
Always there, as if there was only one Cormorant.

I sued to skim stones in anger
Bouncing frustration accross the waves.
Now I just stand there
Sucking in the cold, sharp air
Absorbing the light, the sound, the smell.
Turning anger into calm serenity.

Mini Saga #1

He couldn't see them yet, but this time he knew they were there. The muscle over his left eye twitched gently, invisibly. When they rounded the corner he was ready, palms outward he faced them. He closed his eyes then they turned and ran.