The Dock

The Board Walk

Each piece wavers in its seat.
Built of oaks and evergreens
The pattern of blood and veins
Running the length of each hearts beat.

First, as saw dust lingers,
The lines reaching out,
Gushing, new, untouched and unused.
They mold together to form hands and fingers.

And so the shores will pull away
And the boards will be added
Once more and once more
Reaching farther into the ebbing bay.

Now the arms and the elbows,
The shoulders, and the torso,
The veins still running strong,
Through the new color in the living rows.

Each tide will bring it's rains
And each sun will brings it's kiss,
Each swell will rock the nails,
Where the oaks have held and lain.

The skin will crack and groan
As the head and neck are built,
The tide will lash the shore,
Each taking comfort in mermaids foam.

Now the body has been built,
They saw with each nail,
They built with each plank
A dock strewn with sand and silt.

The bleach of hot summers sun
The running of springs pride
The fall of autumns forever
And it's end when winter has begun.

Lashing shores and little feet
Pounding on it's sturdy hold,
Each hold a groan
Each flow a creak.

And when the years have dithered
The sands have brought more shores
The nails have colored red
And the veins have swelled to withers,

They will come with tooth and nail
To bury you with love.
You splinter under tender hands
And cry quietly under the white of summers sail.

The ebbing of the shore,
The kisses of the sun,
The gentle warmth of spring
The groan of winters lore.

You can only say farewell
For your hands have been undone
Your neck and fingers broke
To the running of the sands and the ebbing of swell.

As the blood flow is no more,
And you are laid to rest
Where? you do not know
But you hope, for ever, by your living shore.