Richard White

explorations in place and time

A tragedy in 3 brass plaques

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Hand in hand we walked to the end of the pier.

Sharing a new year moment, an opening in time.

The pier, this line perfect pier, was ours. The storm had passed.

Sea blasted knitting softened a hard line of steel lattice and

an overturned summer holiday photome glistened bright wet.

I turned round to the wind sheltered booths and saw the shrine.


Words jumped out at me and drew me in.

Make me complete.

Perfect and beautiful.


I could not sit. But stood and shared the winds silence.

A story of joy and tragedy measured in 3 brass plaques.



Author: rswpost

Exploring connections between landscape, place and people. on foot and online. Working collaboratively and harnessing the participatory potential of social media.

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