High on the shore line

Above the storm berm

The winter sea gave out a pilgrim trunk

.

It was thrown up the beach

Like you or I might flick a pebble

.

The corpse of the old tree

Has been gnarled and shaped

By encounters with deep reefs

Where it rolled and shoaled with the fish

And bore the barnacles and wracks

Of the deep blue sea

.

Now it lies here

Like bone of leviathan

.

It has taken on the colours of the deep-

Sea green

Shadow black

Red like the eye of a shark

Grey like the dripping tail of a whale

All faded a little by the blown sand

But jewelled instead by salt crystals

Drawn out in the low sun

.

Who knows where its roots are

Or what of its seeds

Still remain