a sigh of seeding grasses purple-mists the marshes where sea touches shingle with a salty, osculating tingle. Flagrantly expansive August sky – empty of birds but clouds sail by – breathes sun-warmed rusty seaweed, samphire and yellow agrimony, and then blows harder in an attempt to float a sea-loving, pebble-beached boat. Kim M. Russell, 2017
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