No Matter Sunday Morning

No matter Sunday morning melting away

All against the shingle’s salty edge

The swan early jackdaw crack of day

Pocket deep sting

The ring jingle of being stony broke

Like the seawater in my shoes

I had nothing to lose but the words

As they drift from one dream to the next

To be thrown up upon some other shore

Perplexed and broken my words surround me

Comes the squalling wind that steals

Scattered to the everywhere

Amber beads and silver seashells

Amber beads and lucky stones