your echoes die,
your voice is doused by life*

the minutiae washed away
and ground down to sand
dispersed in vesper tides

the feel of your touch
now just froth and bubble
food for fish and crablings


last words whispered on
the wind, whipped away

whilst i was busy,
making lists
and counting coins

oh to hear your shout
one last time
but no
you have left this place

and we must look to living
and leave the detrius
to the sea's forgiveness