A lineage of littoral etchings
Grandfather's preserved retchings
Mildew in a bottle
Sent up from below

Masses of midnight kelp
Thoughts we couldn't help
Just beyond the shallows
A hook not long forgotten

Here the moldy bait dangles
Writhes and twists and tangles
The water watches what we will not
Our ancestors' iron line

The seaweed will snare, encircle, and fetter
Our own blood will rust and tether
In murk down below, amongst marine snow
And then we won't remember