Seahenge

Guardians of time
standing to attention
in an ever shifting landscape,
the circle is buried deep
in sands washed by the tides.

At its heart, an upturned oak
solid in its presence.
Perhaps a last resting place,
hewn by ancient axes,
secured by honeysuckle rope.

We recognise the timeless nature
of what became a seascape,
gulls wheeling above
a manmade offering
that has stood the test of time.

Sue Wallace-Shaddad

(first published in Suffolk Poetry Society’s magazine Twelve Rivers)

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