Wind blistered sand
A desert of a walk
At the end of the day
Two bells in the sea
A shelter of driftwood
With a fire-grate
One man
Up to his knees in the sea
Carries a sound recorder
In soft blown fields tall grasses sway
With their seed-heads
Catching the last of the sunset
Parked up, on Bluestone Heath Road
Under the shade
Of the whispering hawthorn tree
I take off my driving sunglasses
Listen to Cypress Avenue
Write one more penultimate stanza
One man
Up to his soul in the countryside
With all of that which this life offers
