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  • Writer's pictureafricmcglinchey


Updated: Nov 20, 2020


Ambling down the lane

to give the beach a sniff;

hi's to five, and I love them all –

the fella chatting to his dog, his dog,

the others huddled in, in conversation –

the usual rock, dependable

as the confluence of two tides

curling all the way around it,

meeting at the other side,

And from the hill, a tractor silhouette,

the still blue air swishing down its rumble,

a bliss of warmth,

no spray today, exploding from the rock,

just a choking splutter: he said what?

You can’t be serious! The voices,

reaching so much further than I'm used to,

make me want to rush back home to you,

even though you’re locked behind a door,

and we eat in different rooms, smiling

into screens, pixel-light.

Crisis clarifies emotions and priorities,

you said. You mean, you know,

the world to me. And that means

so much more, now the world's

gone blue.

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