I picked you from a shallow grave
of mussel shells one of many
that lie close to the sea wall beneath
the promenade left exposed when
the tide rolls back into the horizon
haphazard clusters of naked nacreous
sockets without eyes and blue-black
domes of weathered backs in rockpools
at rest on soft skin of red and grey
pebble and stone I chose you
I don’t know why I stepped over
seaweed tendrils sprawled on sandstone
to ask questions about your secret life
how you met death unglued unhinged
prised open cracked like a code
scooped out by curve-billed curlew
or common gull abandoned washed
and buried here by the incoming tide
in this ghetto of empty homes I don’t
know why I thought I could save you
Paul Waring is a retired clinical psychologist who once designed menswear and was a singer/songwriter in several Liverpool bands. His poems have appeared in journals/sites including Reach Poetry, Eunoia Review, The Open Mouse and are forthcoming in Clear Poetry and Amaryllis. He recently returned from living in Spain and Portugal and continues to enjoy being re-acquainted with the wonderful variety of nature in Wirral and other parts of Britain. His blog is https://waringwords.wordpress.com.
Foxglove Journal 