Quercus roots hold tight to clay
Dawn breaks pink on empty quay
Vane spins slow on copper spine
No ferry cuts the tide line
Copper turns on morning wind
Two strangers watch the day begin
Salt and soil on calloused hands
No footprints mark the wet gray sands
Salix weeps where water meets
Footsteps fade on concrete seats
You name them genus species kin
I trace the rust where light comes in
Pinus needles catch the gold
Stories rise from soil not told
Vane points north then swings to east
Rest finds rhythm in the least
Copper turns on morning wind
Two strangers watch the day begin
Salt and soil on calloused hands
No footprints mark the wet gray sands
Root and tide same quiet pulse
No engine roar no docking hulls
Just copper turning turning still
Dawn writes verses on the hill
Rosa rugosa guards the shore
Thorns catch light just nothing more
You read the leaves I read the sky
Neither asks the reason why
Copper turns on morning wind
Two strangers watch the day begin
Salt and soil on calloused hands
No footprints mark the wet gray sands
Copper turns the world in rhyme
Dawn has all the time all time
Vane spins slow on copper spine
Dawn breaks pink on empty quay
