washed up and worn out is the feeling –
languishing in doldrums of a new week
where debris of yesterday’s success is
already history
no one remembers it anyway
you share sanctuary in a tides edge –
survivor of the ebb with that singular
success of being buoyed up when the
rest sank
and it stinks out there
tangled in with every manner and
means of flotsam jammed together
in a neat line left where the water
peaked at top of a tidy beach
and all is not what it seems
a beachcomber may pick you up as an
artefact thinking he knows your value –
but you’ve no real chance of resurrection
no satisfaction guaranteed
better you’d died at sea
© 28 August 2008, I. D. Carswell
So gorgeously written yet so inherently sad. I especially liked the line "You share sanctuary in a tide's edge" for some reason.
ReplyDeleteWonderful, as usual.
Hugs
Anna xxx