giant driftwood

on Reenroe Beach: late for a cleanup

of blinding blue rope, blaze-orange nurdle; 

mauve pebbles, sprawl-stunned and ravaged 

beneath dusk’s grim-reaping firmament, greyed. 

a couple in tryst tandem carry a gentle giant 

like a shoulder-to-shorter-shoulder lifeline 

as if their nesting comforts depended on it. 

dwarfed by the decay-decimated immensity

yet unburdened by its wooden splendour’s weight, 

they manoeuvre the oak might into the grip 

of their four-wheeler trunk, wide-open;

then swaddle it like a wanted firstborn

silent wide-eyed waiting for the woollen journey back 

to the heaving hearth of home, reclaimed 

by lit ingleside. life in two quietly drifts by

kindling companions in the shrink and swell of

putting out fires, watching embers die out, 

tide turning till washed-up ash do them part.


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