Evi On The Beach Poem by Leslie Philibert

An unexplained fragment; a ship`s finger
breaks through the crust of wet sand,
alive with the last push of tide, salt

with no front or back, horizon of wilted grass
and toy ships, blocks of war stone, teeth of a
buried dog. And if you want to bend this evening

round in a wind full of seagulls, then...

But you say;
Unlike a picture this cannot be changed
Unlike a song this is not a ring,
We wave and drown,