I hear the refrain of the shore as true as seagrapes,
their snarled trunks knee deep in sand and memory.
their snarled trunks knee deep in sand and memory.
My footprints mimic those of broad backed men,
the churning waters mesmerised by the litany
of keloids and sores seeping from the lash’s persuasion.
the churning waters mesmerised by the litany
of keloids and sores seeping from the lash’s persuasion.
The salt in the air carries to the overgrown plantation
but it is not the same as to stand here,
my feet planted surely and washed by frothy wake.
but it is not the same as to stand here,
my feet planted surely and washed by frothy wake.
My dog announces, along the beach somewhere,
a discovery – a piece of driftwood not unlike a snake.
a discovery – a piece of driftwood not unlike a snake.
I uproot myself, and count my sinking steps
toward his celebrations, the salted voices singing
behind me.
toward his celebrations, the salted voices singing
behind me.
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Richard W. E. Georges is a graduate of the MA Creative Writing programme at Aberystwyth University and a native of the British Virgin Islands where he teaches English and Literature at H. Lavity Stoutt Community College. His work has appeared in Smartish Pace, and the Scottish Poetry Library’s The Written World. He is currently a doctoral student at the University of Sussex.
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