Increasingly abandoned as coastlines alter
and heated waves beat harder rhythms.

Anyone’s, for a song
of fighting the tide.

As bridges wash under
as stars blur out of all constellation

my children and their friends draw you:
you, patient light of return
to safe harbours and friendly faces.

I will always find you they write to each other
sketching rocks in outline
filling whole skies with colour. 

Though old cards and charts speak now
of the gulf, and no known shore,

on page after page in their notebooks
light’s spectrum
beams steady to every horizon.