“Where I belong…” by Alan Murton

Empty winter beach
ebb tide leaves mirrored pools.
Lovers stroll, hold hands.
Seabirds wheeling high,

reach for the towering crags,
swoop to foaming surf.
gone the summer throng,
stretches the endless gold sand,

Sea air fills my lungs.
Atlantic rollers curve,
white foam caresses the rocks –
Telling me “I’m home.”

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