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David Tollick Mar 2011
Watching the April northerly
Blow the Spring away to sea from Galloway
Towards Ireland
The lee of the **** for shelter
Low sun warming your face

Massive frequent clouds, megalithic
Dull below to towering snow-white heaven
Their wind-driven gunmetal shadows rush out to sea
The bay, at distance, a breastplate of pewter
Beaten across with countless, tiny hammerings

With animal purpose a shape moves slowly,
Breaking the horizon heading for Man
The breeze, coltish, struggling to be gone
Headstrong with promise and challenge
A fine day for such a crossing!
Kirkdale is locally pronounced Kir-dal

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