Later, You Returned to the Sea
To the coast, what other setting but by the shore.
We crept along the promenade holding hands,
staying close in the cold.
You were reluctant to step onto the sand
in canvass shoes, so I piggy-backed you
towards the surf, and the bank of wet stones.
A sprig of seaweed, typical litter, a twig.
I set you down there, safe
and threw a rock or two seawards; you laughed.
Hooking yourself to me and using my feet
as stilts to keep out the damp.
I leant in. You turned back.
The wind now whipping hard at our necksand I can taste the salt of the chips we had.
Christy Hall is the tenant and manager of a pub in Beverley, East Yorkshire. He is a graduate of the Creative Writing Master’s course at Hull University. He has had poems published throughout the U.K as well as in America. He hopes one day to publish his own collection.