Sunday, 8 March 2015

Birdlingsflat beach


Freezing cold, I can’t feel my face at all.


Gusts through the sky. My hood is up, offering protection.


Shines through patches in the clouds.


Scatter and mash up the sand.


Shift underneath my feet, like rushing trains.

A Paper Bag

Springs up into the air like a rabbit.

1 comment:

  1. Wow Mason! That was a great poetry. I love it how you described the paper bag as a rabbit; I get the vague idea of a brown paper bag in the shape of a hare, the wind moving it around so it looks like it is jumping around! And I almost feel cold when you describe the wind as 'so cold I can't feel my face'!
    Really awesome Mason.
    From Naima