In tidal pools with their
time melted crab shells and
dribs and drabs of bright green seaweed
are many octopi
legs self entangled
magenta skin turning sweet rose
in sunny waters
It needs gentle prods with a
boot toe to confirm death
so fresh they look
no one else walking the busy
windswept beach seems
to notice or care
In one pool
a larger octopus is beached
as if trying to crawl
to escape back to the estuary
her tentacle tip touching
a bluegray pebble in supplication
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
I’ve mentioned this poetry project, Places of Poetry, earlier this year :
The aim has been to “prompt reflection on national and cultural identities in England and Wales, celebrating the diversity, heritage and personalities of place.” Many people have submitted poems and the site is now closed to new submissions but will remain available for readers.
I highly recommend the site as a treasury of original poetry about places across the United Kingdom. There is a slider to take the map between ancient and modern graphics, and you need to zoom in to find where poems have been pinned.
I have been browsing the site and there are many excellent poems there. I was interested to see that others think of West London as colourless and grey too.
There are poems of mine near Didcot (south of Oxford), at Iwerne Minster in Dorset, in North Hillingdon, Lake Glaslyn near Lllanidloes, Mid-Wales, at Stratford upon Avon and in the middle of Exmoor.
Happy Hunting, and I’d love to hear any recommendations from you.