SPOILS OF WAR

For more than eighty years the wind, the blown sand,

the salty air, and the high tides have softened

the geometrical edges of brick,

and concrete, and cut stone – detritus

of the eighteen-month long Liverpool Blitz

of nightly sirens, fires, and devastation,

removed, lorryload after lorryload,

for the maintenance of morale, from the

maritime city’s mercantile centre,

and dumped, just beyond the mouth

of the Mersey’s broad estuary,

on the beach between Crosby and Blundellsands,

that faces south-west across the shipping lanes

of Liverpool Bay towards North Wales,

Ireland, the Azores – imperceptibly

becoming again merely the minerals

they were made from, dispersing speck by speck

far into the oceans.

 

 

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1 Comment
  • Jeff
    March 4, 2025

    Lovely, David! …. Everything we are and were becomes gritstone and sandstone in the end, along with our experiences, dreams and aspirations, milled back into its constituent gravel and laid thin to eventually become another strata of subtle colour. Who knows, in a million years one layer may be split apart to reveal the word ‘Tesco’ on a very thin sheet of what they may decide to call ‘plastic’. (Other supermarkets exist).