Holding Ground.

Holding Ground.

Out here the sea is a field of stone
cold striations and turning furrows
weathered rocks scattering the shore
the blackened bones of a long dead harbour

are only visible at low tide
pillars of oak littering the strandline
have held against the salt and surf
and sun for a century or more. If

you can watch the weather rolling in,
meditate on far clouds as they darken,
and sense the year passing like a ghost
then you like a soldier holding at his post

have held against the waves of time.
Out here, hidden between the bladder wrack and brine
what held our boats upon the water
still holds the land and sea together.