Seafront. by Laurie Lee
Here like the maze of our bewilderment
the thorn-crowned wire spreads high along the shore’
and flowers with rust and tears our common sun:
and where no paths of love may reach the sea
the shut sands wait for the deserted drowned.
On other islands similarly barbed
mankind lies self imprisoned in his fear,
and watches through the black sights of a gun,
the winging flocks of migratory birds
who cannot speak of freedom, yet are free.
Pencil and photoshop