DESERTED BOAT

You lay ravaged.
By that army of pioneering
plants that have blocked your
lifeblood of arteries, capillaries and veins.
Soaking up your salty saviour
with thirsty stems and hungry leaves.

Your guts and intestines
are home for lurking animals.
With your blistering, cracking, peeling paint
You pine.
You are pine.
While floating souls take time to stare
and study your imprisoned hulk.

One day the sea may discover you
like some lost friend.
And take you to some other shore
where cliffs welcome you
with arms of jagged rocks.

Your flotsam
of wet and warped and weathered planks
lay strewn like sculptures on the shore.
Hardly noticed by passing faces.