Beneath sea tides
in choked white surf,
Osmotic shadows
make their stains on
breathing wood.
Anemones cleave to
salty crust.
Once birds now
fish and crustaceans.
When bronze was young
Seaside forests
stood against the briny.
Around the family copse
aurochs roamed.
I miss the wind
the rain’s sweet tears
Leaves that fell
as autumn showers.
Now only our stumps
stretch along the bay.
Sisters wait and
tremble, wrapped
in salt graves.
And despair as
the sea sinks her
deep water teeth
into the bole.
Who could believe
that ancient lands
seeded and grazed,
are now washed
by blue grey sea.
©️ Dai Fry 14th February 2020.