#2,437 Seaford

A squared-off eighteen metres
of filtered sand framed by level
railway sleepers – shovelling in
buckets a squat kid cries – Over
this shingled seaside town – no
resort [as such] – a gull & a kite
avoid entanglements – My cup
of hot tea almost tip-able [that
depth of less anchorage versus
an onshore wind] – Our futures
scuttle – on a stick we’ll toddle
into tired rest homes [with sea
views] – No pets – strangers sat
with us instead – & my cup flips