A Road West
The cliffs’ tin mine is a sentry,
a shadow from the cove’s upwards glance.
A path leads West where the only sound are mason bees.
Alpines and stinging ants sheet the mounds.
Occasional ruins appear, Greek in this light,
and the scorched Atlantic peels like my sunburnt arms.
A coastal path spirals up, and my vertigo
throws me off the edge a hundred times.
The wire fence reveals no ledge, just a curve,
no precipice, no sense of where or how far to fall.
My backpack slices my right shoulder,
to remind myself, ensure the slip would be towards life.
Patrick Wright has a poetry pamphlet, Nullaby, published by Eyewear in 2017. A full collection will follow in 2020. His poems have appeared in several magazines, including Agenda, Wasafiri, The Reader, and The High Window. He has been shortlisted for the Bridport Prize. You can read more here; http://www.patrickiwright.co.uk/about.php He tweets as @Saturnineone