in among the wet sand and the stony places
live a million fallen memories,
blown away to lie rotting in the rock pools
like dead crabs.
under that soul-less sky with its deep frowning face
the muted light shines onto the green slime
and jellied condoms,
strippy weed
and tumbled plastic cups.
if you sit quietly and listen
you will hear the echoes of yesterday,
the words of lovers and families and children
that lay in almost silent death
among the still waters,
to be gathered by the tides,
sucked out to sea
and brought back again
to fester forever,
forgotten.
rachael richmond
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/echoes-of-yesterday/
