North Berwick
Dedicated to Carl Edwards
Once again the sea
infers itself like tinnitus
on me. The wet
patch on my arse,
from the bench that I sat upon, provides
no discomfort or remorse.
Acceptance; that overwhelmingness, and I
am contented to let
the sea into me. And I
could drown in this life
and I could drown on this land
and the seafaring tales I am told
by Denis O'Driscoll
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