The water is
very different
where we are
a little later

(a scrabble game through
as is a bit of the market
and a path tramped
down to St James)

where there are cigarette-butts
and all sorts of debris
that pollutes and poisons
the ocean’s life

(stuff we care about
when those special days
ritually meet up with us
and we suddenly observe
for the glare of the selfie)

folks are imbibing away
children at the raw end
of their minders’
obligatory cancer-sticks

(is it not incongruous
that the intelligent species
does this on a beach
as though there is
another planet to go to)

and we witness young men
magically transformed
scarily boisterous
now leering around

(they oft described
as The Element)

we take our leave
our day is done
sadly undone too

The water is
very different

Somewhat hurriedly we make our way to the train station, Sunday 17 February 2019.