Someone had intended <br />to mend <br />this beach-stranded boat <br /> <br />Hauled high on the shingle <br />well above <br />the high tide <br /> <br />uselessly tethered <br />by moss-bearded ropes <br />to a wind worried tree. <br /> <br />Abandoned <br />except by rats <br />and the occasional scuttling crab <br /> <br />Honey-shined wood <br />bleached grey <br />dulled with dry rot. <br /> <br />Tongue and groove joints <br />still hold firm <br />the ribbed torso. <br /> <br />Made by a craftsman long dead <br />with skills lost <br />in a past world of wood. <br /> <br />Hard plastic, fibreglass hulls <br />stamped and pressed to shape <br />industrial strength lines in fast factories <br /> <br />cheap runabouts for townies <br />will never die this beach death of dignity <br />mourned by passing poets.<br /><br />M.L. Emmett<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beach-burial-2/
