Crashbox

Along the coast there is no age
Old and young are together distressed;
By might and salty pensive brooding.
Moss-wound oak and pungent sage
Green brown and musky dressed;
Rumbling with friendly foreboding.
Along the coast one is wrapped
With tragic waves
And terrible beauty forbidden;
Safe for a moment
desperate the next...
Around my feet ideas lapped
Echoed within the skull's caves
Ragged mind now dulled and hidden...
All to relent
All out of context.
Along the coast a smile plays
Dances and sings to the slate sky
Who's grin is this?
What mouth did it forsake?
A mile-post of days
Sometimes honest, often sly
A slow smile kiss
Who now will partake?
Along the coast you are lost
Long later to be found
Caressed awake
Windy tossed
Dying without a sound