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A view to the sea
All time is tidying and shrugging off
The cast weight of a cramping life,
Trying to pull light through the spine,
I walk the view down to the sea,
My sight edged by the Edwardian stone
Certainty of a Grandmother's gaze.
The muscle seizes and weaves the day,
Ululating in a glow from the mackerel sky,
The pulse slows about a half moon's edge,
The bones grow light above the stride,
Until sarsen where the wind meets the land,
His gull rides to the will in the air again.
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