It lay incongruous:
At an angle oblique to its own belonging,
Languishing lonely between retreating tide
And the blind feet of the Good Friday beach brigade
Denied even a footnote
In the watermargin of either world,
A shadow of its former self,
Reduced in circumstances and stature:
Torso slit and split from navel to neck,
Innards systematically shredded
By the assiduous attrition of salt and sun.
One knot remained resolute,
Its tightly-drawn integrity
Girding and guarding
Its fast-failing fibre ‘wives’,
To the very last vestige of its tender tension.
Tomorrow there would be another leaving,
Another landfall to test its ring of wedded resolve;
But for today,
Today it had been enough.