The dark people on the silver beach

how like moonlight they waltz
where the shells
are not cracked and peeling.
The walruses and the distant military
come to seek healing their dark hands held out like flippers.
How I long to dance in the shell of the moon
where the wounded masks fall away
like faces where the craters
are not too deep
to heal.

The dark people on the silver beach

when the horses left their hoofprints in the sand
they were taken to the dance
after the explosion
after counting
to ten.

The dark people on the silver beach

the seals of their souls wear anoraks now
their children lick ice-creams.

The dark people on the silver beach

do not know who they are
who they were until
the dance begins.

I dance amongst them. Look – a shoal of dolphins!
How they bend their backs and arch
into the deep sea.

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*Last month I visited Formby Beach and took this photograph. During a full moon meditation I saw a vision of ‘the dark people on the silver beach’ dancing there by moonlight and that inspired this poem.

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5 thoughts on “The dark people on the silver beach

  1. There is something of the Great Forgetting in this… as if people are doomed to walk a beach that has forever been cleared of the footprints of their ancestors by the rising of the tides.

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