Skimming Stones On Hythe Beach* Poem by Neil Young

Evening simmered gently across the sea
Where the smooth white-blue sky melted seamless
Into it. A strange mist, light and patchy,
Blew across the stony beach; the process
Of evaporation drawn on the air.
At the edge of the returning tide, we
Stood selecting stones to skim, each with their
Own smooth oddities, flattened, polished, sea-
Worn, warm to our touch; ancient landscapes crushed,
Flung around the coast. We threw pieces back.
Some resisted the sea’s rippling skin. Pushed
On, they skimmed three, four times, then sank. A black
Shaped cormorant watched, bleak-eyed, as mist blurred,
But those Martello towers stood undeterred.