I’ve been here many times
and taken many photographs;
what’s become of them, I’ve no idea, although
none stand comparison to memory.
No hard drive’s yet been built to beat
the soft stuff in our heads.
Late March: it’s cool, but not too cool.
The sun is low and turns the peaks
of small waves into lights
that flicker on and off. Geese
brush them with their wing-tips – this
is an aerodrome for geese, though built
(unlike the human kind) for peace.
(c) 2015 Sackerson