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The searches

I went searching the beaches

at night for phials of vaccine

dropped tauntingly overboard

just outside the territorial limit


washing up in an arc

from Lowestoft to Margate

bobbing into harbour

tangled in kelp


a text alert and we'd gather

convoys at night

a thin line of belief

refracted headlight rain


we burned flags for warmth

sang the old songs

I met a silent protestor

he said he was a work of art


we salvaged national pride

in oily lumps at the tideline

you can't let your dog eat it

it'll make them French


faithless migrating birds

bombing into tight balls

of loyal fish

you just can't look


I accused the others of

just not believing enough

for those who can see

the future's right there

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