Saturday, 22 August 2009

Last trips to the summer sea



Rip force plunges summer's end

In thrusts of sea and lists.



Already tumble leaves on paths

And morning breaths are crisp.

Wistful, wakeful waves of me

Must crash back on the Shore.

(Or more accurately: down to the school gates beside the Shore, bracing myself for the currents of two schoolboys' adventures instead of just one!)