cussed Hamlet,
tore off some wax paper from a big roll
in the kitchen
wrapped a bit of coffee cake in it
then buggered off.
He went to the beach first,
plunged his forearm into rockpools
and brought up shells, wet pebbles
that gleamed like magic eggs.
He listened to the soft clacking sound
they made as they jostled in his cupped hands
then let them drop back in
through a skein of black bladderwrack
like a drowned girl's hair.
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This is my favourite so far.
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