Welsh poet, Byron Beynon

LIMESLADE

Early morning, a bay opens

out towards an inconsistent sea,

a greasy haze on the quiet

surface of the water

where a labelled can floats

free with the tide's pulse.

Nearby another artery of communication

hardens as the day's strength of light

climbs to shape the colour of this scene

where cold steps descend,

witnesses of insecure waves

expanding towards an unsettled horizon.

JOHN CLARE'S CREMONA VIOLIN

He...

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