I rub the condensation from the window.
It won’t be long before white noise stops
its sibilant assault on roof and windscreen.
Rolling down the window, just a crack,
to breathe in fresh salt air with a sad veneer
of vinegar sharpness on wet chips and boiled whelks.
The weather thwarted seaside treat plays out
as it always has.
I drown the sibling tantrum out; slot machines
are not that important. I’m content enough
to sip Heinz Tomato Soup from the plastic
top of a well worn Thermos flask and lose myself
in the relentless beauty
of raging, murderous waves.
(c) O/Bleak 2015 (WV)