Driving home through Somerset, the sea is a magnet
I miss the turning to East Quantoxhead,
Kilve is the next place to stop.
A short walk to the long, stony shore
I stumble more than I used to over
wobbly boulders to get nearer the water;
an urge to progress to the altar.
This place does what I hoped for;
the vast open skies, the constant waves
lift and renew sagging spirits
If fears are realised I need confirmation
that I can cope, move on, change
Here on Kilve beach in the unlikely grey drizzle
I breathe in the possibilities.