Our eyes scanned the depths 
of salt water fringed with kelp. 

        We crouched at the edge, 
dipped sticks, churned up sand; 
    unearthed the fragment of a razor clam, 
              turned it over in our hands, 
watched as the colours moved. 

            We leant across and combed 
back fronds of Irish moss, 
       felt them wrap around our wrists, 
                   tickle our skin. 

You rinsed clean a shell, 
         held it damp against my ear 
              for me to hear the sea. 

                     I showed you a crab I’d found 
                               tucked beneath a stone, 
                                           sleeping. 

     That’s when the light changed; 
when the rock pools glowed 
     like treasure left by the receding tide.

 

*

Mims Sully is a poet from Sussex who currently enjoys living by the sea. She’s been widely published in magazines and anthologies including Prole, Popshot and Ink, Sweat and Tears, and she won the Visual Verse Autumn Writing Prize 2022. When not writing, she loves to bake cakes, read, tend to her ever-increasing number of house plants and go for long walks, especially along the beach.