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Beachings

A signal in this tall, White map To cavity with flow and then an arc Vibrations here and in the solemn land Faces wide to hear and speak in those oppressive shoals And cape to wonder A beam of will to each in sand- upon the look of war and chance survive Peaks of adoration in captive flow A hearse upon the water scaring shore into Mirrors of account to modest way survive Afraid of nothing but this fate of solemn death Peers astir in wreckage and the year Others in advantage to the hue of larksand be A sore of plenty spare and young release of tin Praying wonder to a time of Earthen cask to sorely few Sailings cast an unafforded sorry myth that time repeals Wagering the dawn of sync and flow as will someday become All watchmen to the hour and lonely grip Piercings of the tail fin for shore and warring’s length Understudy to the cure of proud betrayal in the water tree Refinements to the hour of chance’s word to play vacate Riddles for the French and others be to quip with roe and Derry solute tool A wedge in beauty to this dust behold my sorry man In tracts to favour all that cue the beings lost to deep And fewer at the solemn hour like this to ford the year A simple row to happenstance and praying for this lest Fear and tour its rope to this whole rain and sky before Bathing in at sea and catching simple hoarse and things to therefore heal Solemn rite to disassound bespoke to happentude as poly-will and three In pushed to harbours reunite at solemn cost but what to pod A river flow unto this whale we keep for nature’s heal A prayer for all who cease to know what comes of stranded cet’