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Red Bricks, White Stones

"Look how it's shrunk." I laugh as I stare
through the railings. There's the blazing bricks
of the schoolhouse where I used to bathe
in view of the attendants. From there

the yard deepens to these railings which were once
obscured by the muddy waters and strange fish,
lobsters, crabs, sea-horses in shorts and skirts.
I paddled, feeling the older water

then I swam until I reached the iron bed
but found it was only a rock-pool.
The tide came in and swept me out to sea.

It looked deep and dark from the red-bricked beach
like a dreaded inevitable journey
which, once made, was laughed about.
I laugh at it even now from the global sea

As I look smiling to the iron-railed surface,
yet to discover what lies behind me,
I think of the white paving stones beneath,
as I laugh at those red, shallow bricks.


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