At Bharcasaig Bay, the dusky sky extends into the sea
and crashes into the basalt beach only to retreat again,
timid at showing their intimacy. My feet, exposed, infiltrate
the vulnerable sand and dig up the realm of relics
concealed within it.
All buried memories emerge at the pull of the moon.
Deserted whelk homes quiver at the biting touch
of the water, the sea glass glimmers in the misty sun.
A chalky splinter of the past untangles itself
from the mass of sand – nearly breathless.
Its balmy edges recount a rough perpetuity at sea.
Like an adrift sailor restored to land, it is changed and broken,
an amnesiac to its roots. Without any alluring clues, it remains
a blank canvas – an enigma – with no code to decrypt it.
Featured Image Credit: Julia Benko
A 22 year old aspiring writer.
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