Spindrift line of silver greyTide on the turnRed stain of paint Across the harbour ground Hemp ropes are strainingAgainstHulls wedged in sandThe freshening windThrows fresh spots of rainDrawn lines of greyFrom the cloud’s edge Behind the harbour wallA narrowing beachThe water rushes inThe dark mouth of the cave Hides a smuggler’s taleSea wornSmooth stepsNo treadWhiteContinue reading “Polperro”