Saltash

The grasses, that hold the sand-dunes in place,
Mobility is certain without them.
But stifled, we stick our bums in the sand
and picnic with ankles tied. Roots

That were seeded when we were still blind
Just pups, only wailing for milk.
The sand-dunes are hollow, and us they do swallow
The gulls overhead know us not.

The safety-net that strangles the fish
The weight of the shoal as net hits the deck
The salt in your eyes as you're grasping for breath
Friends, family. Once succouring, now: death.

Remember the breeze that we feel but don't join
Remember the sounds of those gulls.
We are helping to grow new lands with this grass.
We are here for good.

I am here for good. I am here for good.