Upon the castle walls
play sun-stretched shadows
of seagulls.

Below them, yachts
huddling like cowboys lay-
besieged to the waves.

On the bank, L´escapade and La Crevette
alone stand erect in the shingle
among the bellied and rudderless.

Survivors like the joggers
pacing the shore
in measured steps.

Survivors like the  mollusc itchy rocks
that dip seaweed beards
into the shallows.

Survivors like the restaurant
that for a glitch of English
sells whole wolf and forgotten tomatoes

The seagulls fly past
cackling at their shadow counterparts
And are gone.

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