Looking through.

The hag-stone
carries the quick salt reek of the bay
where we drew in the sand with
pitted twists of heather root,
things we had to stamp-out
hours before the tide
returned to hide the truth of days.

Shrunk-down:
somehow condensed through
oneeyed squints,
the foaming line of breaker
formed a crossing out,
a swift correction.

Toffee-smooth outside
but in the hole quartz points
crammed together:
scraping a shadow,
in every glance a sharp truth.

ebby
beeskiffle
2014

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~ by Beeskiffle on September 12, 2014.

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