Memories of You
Today I wake to a mass stranding.
They lie there half-dead, gasping,
and it is too difficult to step, to see
anything but their vermilion, spilling.
I try to sweep one away, but can’t bear
the sting of it; can do nothing
but wait, just willing them to die,
gripped by their eyes, coin-wide
and staring. I plead with them
to forgive me, but they just stare
and breathe and breathe and breathe.
I wait for the tide to drag them back;
there is so much I love there, I cannot
bring myself to bury them.
Eleanor Page is a poet and artist from North Essex. She is currently studying a Writing Poetry MA at the Poetry School, following a BA in English Literature and Creative Writing at the University of Warwick. She has had poems published in Acumen, Envoi and Brittle Star, and one of her poems was highly commended in…
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