Sea Dross

The metallic smell of rust -

a lingering red powder

seeping into fingers

exuding decapitating force.

Flaked ruin peeling,

a salt-curdled corrosion;

Its benison of sea.

I hear distant waves

dragging gently on the sands.

Can they cause such dissolution?

This debacle of sturdy iron?

These massive anchors transfixed

in rust-red mud?

All this -

caused by that slow swish

of lace-edged green.

The wind churns skeins of cloud

above my doubting head

and tells me other tales.