I remember the barnacles that scratched
when I clung to your steep side as waves crashed;
they found you first on your journey through life -
opinions formed from injustice and strife.
But also pink sea thrift flowers springing
like pockets of joy, and seagulls winging
high in the blue vastness of your belief,
that in doing our best we find relief
from all spite or hardship that weighs us down
as we seek to find a way of our own.
Whatever happened, or was said, I knew
we loved each other : always my rescue,
but now you're gone and in strange seas I stand
holding my child with feet deep in your sand