stands the ebony totem in ebony sand
a dream in a mist of grey. on a far distant shore. the pebble that stood alone
and driftwood lies half buried
warm shallow waters sweep shells
so the cockles shine. a bare winding carcase
shimmers as flies scoop up meat
an empty way. dry tears. crisp flax squeaks tall reeds
make a circle of grey in a summer way
stood on ground. i'm trying