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Dusk at Oxwich Bay

Iris Anne Lewis

tattered remnants of the tide
stream to the retreating sea

halo-frilled with silver light
grey clouds billow to not-quite-black

reflections on the gleaming beach –
a mirror of the world above

sea blends into sky, the only sign of waves
the shifting glints of pearl and pewter

no horizon, no past, no future,
only the ebb and flow of now

a shadowed figure of a man
walks towards the sea

on wet sand his bare feet
beat a rhythm to his fluting call

Rhian, Carys, Gwen

wingbeats sound, white arcs
streak across the sky

three gulls fly to him, crying

In 2020 her work was published in Artemis, Black Bough Poetry, Ink, Sweat and Tears and The High Window. She featured in the Silver Branch Series on Black Bough Poetry, won the Gloucestershire Poetry Society Competition and made her sixth appearance at the Cheltenham Literature Festival as a prize winner.
Twitter: @IrisAnneLewis

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