Caught by the River

Darkroom

17th January 2012

A poem by John Barlow.

Darkroom

Black whelks
seam the strand line
detritus of masked crabs, a cuttlebone,
and three guillemots
the winter tide

has brought to land. A crow turns
the sea potatoes, selects one
and hunches to fly.
A blink of a white flash
will develop in the mind.

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