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The art of sitting, by Britta Benson

The art of sitting On your waterproof poncho, folded out flat on the beach. I want to be touching distance to the sea. You know this is silly, and we laugh as we sink deep and deeper into March-cold sand. On a wooden bench, side by side above the bay, basking in sunshine, clumps ofContinue reading “The art of sitting, by Britta Benson”

Deep water poetess, by Britta Benson

This poem is my response to Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt: This week’s prompt is ‘Rune’, in 96 words. I went for a walk on one of my favourite beaches today in North Berwick and looking at the wet sand, I saw all the little marks, dips, crevasses left by the sea, constantly changing.Continue reading “Deep water poetess, by Britta Benson”

Sea gods, by Britta Benson

I spent the day in North Berwick. From the summit of North Berwick I looked onto the beach. Later, I went along the beach and observed a few swimmers. I’m always in awe of winter swimmers. Today, for a brief moment, I felt inspired, upon watching them. I rolled up my trousers and wanted toContinue reading “Sea gods, by Britta Benson”