Miki Byrne

 

 

Tea-time in Sand Bay

The bare beach rolls away
windswept, smooth,
as much space as can fill two eyes,
and the desire to feel the wind.
Mercury-bright channels
gouge snaking paths to the sea
that sucks them into its vastness.
A shaggy line of weed,
like bed-head hair
edges toffee-coloured sand.
Chill takes small bites
from ears and noses
as if invisible spirits live on the breeze
and zoom in for snacks.
On the shore road,
a bright flag snaps whip-like,
cracks the air gunshot sharp.
The tea shop huddles, solitary,
windows sparking a flash of colour
amidst closed grey houses
where residents stay warm
and puzzle over out-of-season loonies
who risk hypothermia on the tideline.
The cafe offers haven; warm, quaint,
fragrant with cooking.
We settle at table, peel scarves away,
pet the dog to lie quietly.
Tea mugs are bliss for those
who braved the outdoors.
Like a head banged against a wall,
it’s great when it stops.

 

 

 

Miki Byrne has three poetry collections and work included in over 170 poetry magazines and anthologies. She runs a poetry writing group and began performing in a bikers club in Birmingham. Miki is disabled and lives in Gloucestershire.

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