Weekends in Littlehampton

the girls roller-skating on the prom
all arms and muddy blonde curls
lungs like gulls, tumbling in the wind

they’ll plod home, sky a burnt orange,
dusk on their backs
noses pinched pink, scraped knees
pockets brimming with shells
lining up to wash the sand
from their fingernails

tea on the table, toast and beans
legs swinging out of time
one more sleep before
they leave with the tide

Beth Punnett (she/they) is a poet based in North London. She writes about memory, her favourite foods, and the overall messiness of life.