Waves suck pebbles smooth,
sea glass gleams like wet wine gums
scoured on a gentle beach
buffed by sea weed rags.

Stand with me,
watch each lavish surge kink
and rattle the sand’s song,
a shout of spray along the curl,
shells tumbled in the wash,
drowned wood, stripped like a corpse
landed far from home.

Hear our time being lashed
soft, hard, insistent,
mocked by laughing gulls
rippling on a stiff breeze,
sand kissing our boots
with dry ghost lips,
the flag staff lanyard
clacking like a cracked bell.

It is familiar, a song well sung
since we stood here last,
in love, in lust and young.