I know nothing changes. Nothing grows.
The sloping hills that give way to sudden
drop cliffs and there the clear blue seas fade
seamlessly into the horizon. I
know nothing changes. Nothing grows.
Polaris and Cassiopeia still
dance in the sky, never growing old. I
know nothing changes. The hovering
bronze buzzards stalking rabbits sharing
the sky with steel capped seagulls chasing
battered fish and chips. Nothing grows.
Rossilli beach and the thousand steps
walk down to it, cut into the cliff side –
the forest path leading down to the beach.