Today the rain sifts down
In gentle waves of floating grey,
Dissolving the sea into the clouds,
Fingering the cliffs.
A wall of drifting water joins the sodden sky
To an empty sea.
Softly the cliffs are weeping
Streams of supple brown clay
As they surrender their secret hoard
Of ancient memories
To the soft strength of the rain
And the indifferent waves.
Shyly the soft clinging fingers
Of the nurturing clay lose their grip,
Stroking and clinging as their strength subsides,
And the scattered remains of lost ages
Slip over the shifting beach
And shimmer into nothing.