Appleton Beach

We are neither you nor I,
The beach-head shingles in the mist,
The grasses kiss the shivering breeze,
And fleet-eyed seagulls flock and cry
And swoop and cackle
Sailing on above and by

The cliffs are slowly falling down.
The sea up-rears, foaming mouthed and arching backed,
To tear the rock from off the face,
To cast it out to flail and drown.
I'm waiting here to catch my breath,
Far from the backwater of the town

I've ran since I heard Agnes chime,
And still she smiles out from the vale.
She peeled from me the last dull trace
Of our once life, our home, our time.
The old sea-wall rattles and shakes
As it is foamed and lipped with brine

I can see you lying at the cliff's feet,
Your hair like seaweed held suspended.
Sheaning light glances off of you
And strawberries colour in to your cheeks.
Though no. It can't be you.
You've never before ever looked so meek

I'm sinking further in to the sand.
The crabs and cuttles hover by
And tell me not to move or struggle
If I'm to take the helping hand.
The hand I waited for on the cliff,
With all our memories washing by,
Cast out not to be back-collected.
Not for you and not to I