Mara Bergman
Tide
I stretch out my arms to horizons,
sweep clean every shoreline, stones
set like diamonds, shells that speckle the sand,
bladderwrack and mermaid’s purse, shark’s tooth,
crab-back. I work wide, advance in small increments.
An infinity of beaches to tend to!
Bubbleweed and jelly-clumps, bits
of hard plastic. This is where the couple lay,
here, the child’s sandcastle.
My technique is slow but it’s constant
as the waves that keep cresting and
crashing. I’m grateful for the burning sun, the moon,
knowing one day, or night, I will
merge with the ocean, wrap around every island.
With no time for sleep I keep moving.
Page(s) 12
magazine list
- Features
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- 10th Muse
- 14
- Acumen
- Agenda
- Ambit
- Angel Exhaust
- ARTEMISpoetry
- Atlas
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- Cannon's Mouth, The
- Chroma
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- Dream Catcher
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- Fabric
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- Floating Bear, The
- French Literary Review, The
- Frogmore Papers, The
- Global Tapestry
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- Interpreter's House, The
- Iota
- Journal, The
- Lamport Court
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- Magma
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- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
- Monkey Kettle
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- Neon Highway
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- North, The
- Oasis
- Obsessed with pipework
- Orbis
- Oxford Poetry
- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
- Poetry Cornwall
- Poetry London
- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
- Poetry Review, The
- Poetry Salzburg Review
- Poetry Scotland
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- Private Tutor
- Purple Patch
- Quarto
- Rain Dog
- Reach Poetry
- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
- Smiths Knoll
- Smoke
- South
- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The