by Jess Howe

Created on: April 19, 2008

The Wall

There is an old grey seawall
On the east New England shore
It has stood there forever
And will forevermore.
Its stones were once uncrumbled
Untarnished by seaweed
But oe'r years it has been humbled
And its ruts are full of reeds
The wind whistles through the chinks in it
And howls among the cracks
The ocean beats a tune on it
Then teasingly moves back
But the seawall still stands, hardy
And hale against the wind
It listens to the tardy
And it cries for those who sin
I love the tarnished seawall
It will be yet when I die
Its cracks will hold my memory
And make the seagulls cry.

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