Still they stand,

wedged hard and rusting in the glow of

sunrise… sunset

and the tides that cover them in between,

these men of unblinking perspective

and who show their contempt

for Humanity by turning their back

ever away from the shore line

and the gaze of seagulls,

punished for their insane chattering

and their dogged resistance to change.

 

Though blind from birth, they see all

and in the whispered delusions that reach

their ears from screams of children

and the agony of parenthood,

they silently judge the senseless guardians

and wish that if places could be exchanged

then the seagulls

and the humans

who litter the sands and rock pools,

who drown in their own mischief,

who play as if the end of the world was on its way,

could replace them in quiet repose and stand

against the time, tide and wind

that blows sand deep

into their unpolished crevices

and rusted hope.

 

Ian D. Hall 2015