Rhosilli Bay

Molten silver sea
and a sun disguised as the moon.
Over diamond shores
gulls wheel and pull.
The wind whips;
your hair smells of salt and yesterdays.
You want to stay forever
with restless tides and endless sky
but the slow hiss
of the train at the station,
says it’s time.

Quietly pick up your bags,
leave your heart behind.

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