By a Cornwall Cliff

by cyan

Published October 18, 2026

E - Everyone

In "Serious" Poetry

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How many red suns had to drown in this ocean to turn it so green?
Razor reefs: Land's End, ship's end
Rust, beached upon orange rocks
The wind tumbles its wild heart to you in apology
The tide chases up the beach -
Soft crystalline water
Swash and swallow the sand.

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“If you come at four in the afternoon, I'll begin to be happy by three.”
— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince