Land and Sea

I don't know the age I discovered her
Heaving against the black sand
The tips of her fingers disappearing into the cracks of the coast
Plying the rock of her bed
With those hands
That clawed the small bay stones
Foaming white as the sky turned furious

And as I picked my careful path
Through the nettles and all the bus staff houses
I began my affair with the curious beast
Kissing the mouths of my wellington boots
Sipping the soles of my sniggering feet

And in the same breathe
The beat of whistling thistles
Echoed nine-hundred miles to the [?] coast
The crags of the cross
Each different by name
Love, sighs, regret, and goat

She met me on the shore by the [?]
Where the men who jump ship knit Berry to Key[?]
Reassured by the captains who never sit down
That the holes in their pockets carry worlds in their cabin
And in their grey hairs
The salt of Cape [?]

But now
As road-marks bind the land
Like a join the dots for the lazy deranged
I feel her most
Accept a cold comfort from whispering drips
As she scratches the shingle
A kitten of the coast

And remember all I've shared her with
The girl in the free on the bench next to me
Backs turned to the reigning garrison church
And the friend
Who thought he'd make each stone his own
And cast them into the sea