Shades are deeper here, less <br />Subtle than Aldeburgh; <br />This murky northern coast. <br /> <br />Anchored along the beach, <br />Gormley's zombies wait; dream <br />With the incoming tide. <br /> <br />Strange how they stand apart, <br />Their measured distances <br />Contrived. Their patina <br /> <br />Is rust; monoliths whose <br />Outlines are emphasised <br />Dark bronze by the sunset. <br /> <br />Like them, do we not stand <br />In search of another <br />Place; in search of lost Time?<br /><br />Neil Young<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reading-powell-on-crosby-beach/
