EBB TIDE

Green walled waves
  marching from afar
Fell upon the rock walled shore.

Sea birds cried
and wheeled,
This day's birds are
not last year's birds
And not those of the
ages before.

The rock pebbles roll
in the surge and
In turn are flung 
against the granite domes,
Pecking out the quartz grains
and the pink stones
And the black parts crumble
to join the ebb tide flow

And the continental boundary receeds
an inch each age
Until the orb pulled tides
tire of the game
And a fire cold sunstar
nods and no bird cries
ever again
To the frozen flat
silent crystal sea.