Shush

“Shush“, the Dover shingle whispers softly, sub-surface, sub-marine. “Shuuush“. In the silty harbour sea, I cannot see my arms or hands or life. The Dover shingle shifts. Slides and settles. We sigh together. I am swimming with my eyes closed, and the shingle says “shush” and I open them and swim on. “Shush“.   * I’ve…

If the wind gets worse

If the wind gets worse, I’ll have to give up, If the sun doesn’t warm, I’ll have to give up, If the water gets rougher, I’ll have to give up, If the boat breaks down, I’ll have to give up, If my shoulder gets bad, I’ll have to give up, If I get hypothermia, I’ll have to give…