as the tide ebbs I join beachcombers
stepping between seaweed-wreathed rocks

I believe in worlds that ride on the horns of buffalo—
my home is cluttered with fables and theories
and strange things fished out of tidal pools

I hear the high tide sigh at night
and I fall asleep, my mind dancing
with thoughts of uncharted planets

5 comments
Selected byRaymond Huffman
Image credit:Raymond Huffman
David Belcher
David Belcher

I live on the north coast of Wales, in the UK. And I work as a cleaner. I've been a gardener, a decorator, I've worked in Paint and wallpaper shop, and I've hung curtains and blinds for a living.  Everything I know about poetry I've learned from a few books and the internet. I write because I enjoy it, and because it feels worthwhile.