Cornish Coastal Road

These blackened trees, trunks bent
against the gale, cruelly combed
by wind without end are
stubborn survivors in this hostile place.
Claws to the starved soil,
seasoned by sea-salt they fight
suppression by sand and sea.
Cowed by the shifting dunes
that threaten daily to subsume,
and yet their tenuous roots dig deep
seeking what little sustenance
and asylum is on offer.
Birds do not perch here
but ride the currents above
their calls carried inland
where they dilute to nothing.
This track has seen
the smuggler and the siren,
the wreckage and heroics
and now I scuff the sandy soil
as I toil up this final rise.

Survivor poem – poet’s choice – trigger 11