some memory of blue clay, of buttered gorse, jutting bayonet of flint, half-hidden, always just an inch away,   this very, very evening, returned again, beleaguered, beached and batchelor: palm of secret, saddened gems.   the following adornments remain abandoned on the tidal floor waiting for me to discover them -   a glass of sand, a special … Continue reading hinge of laughter. →