Blackpool Beach Flies

Blackpool Beach Flies

Sun bakes the sand

children scream and run

flashes of buckets and spades

flies swarm like tiny black clouds

landing, biting, leaving red marks

holiday makers slap and swat

some curse, some laugh

but no one is free

ice cream drips down sunburned arms

waves roll in, cooling, fleeting

and still the flies come

a man folds his towel

grumbling about the itch

a girl shakes her hair

trying to chase them away

the sun moves higher

the sky stretches pale and hot

and the flies move with it

relentless

hungry

unseen until it is too late

A father lifts his hat, swats at the air

his sunburned neck reddens under the sky

sand sticks between toes,

in hair, in folds of cloth

a seagull swoops, startled, crying

while the flies ignore it, hunting instead

A woman shifts her chair, muttering

children chase each other, squealing

and every wave that curls in and dies

brings another cloud of black,

relentless, biting

No one sits still for long

no one escapes the itch and the sun

the sea laughs, cold and indifferent

and the flies feast under its reflection

Flies bite and sting, sun burns and blinds

laughter mixes with curses in the wind

ice cream drips, towels flap, children run

and still the black clouds hunt,

relentless under the sun