Wreckage

I think I'm turning into John Masefield. I should count myself lucky, if so.

The sea puts all at odds on shore;
breaks the fragile fences, makes 
all walls a mockery, and takes
the things we try to build away
to fill some other coast it must repay.
Life's a ruin, says the ocean;
Life's a ruin, says the shore;
Life is built upon the wreckage,
say the seagulls,
of the things you built before.

March 11 2014