Toes in the sand

A good few things started and ended here –

mom's ashes were dispersed in that same sea

which saw me almost drowning years later –

this is where I come back when I'm lonely.

A girl here guided my hand to her crotch,

another taught me all I know about fear,

life oft waited here to go up a notch –

a good few things ended and started here.

I learnt some relationships had a price –

a good few things ended forever here –

that journeys are more precious than their prize

for you can lose it yet still walk the pier.

Inherited things lay here unwanted

for I began to write before I came –

for here indeed a good few things started –

every time different, every time the same.

The ships still pass in the Bay of Biscay –

tireless winds churning sands, seas and thoughts –

a good few things were born or in decay,

here where clamour still the battles once fought.

Here my yesterdays and tomorrows blend –

suns set with rage and kind moons disappear –

aroused and alert looking for the rend –

perhaps all things are bound to happen here.