Time smooths rainbow hardness
of tree basalt, vermilion jasper,
silvery granite and pale feldspar
with the help of humdrum
but patient jeweler of tides,
volcano-born, earthquake-quarried,
heat-cracked, wind-carved,
death shapes compact among the rocks;
it drifts light as a fractured bone
when the tide uncovers.
It blinks among the smashed shells,
upset by gulls, bleached by salt and sun
the broken crockery of living things.
An eagle surveys from the upland,
unsympathetic to the burdens
I have carried here;
the sea would not hug me, so I sit,
hollow as driftwood, jumbled as pebbles.
This was originally published in Fall 2017 edition of The Helix.