By Kathryn McCone Usher
No beachcomber
ever shall find me
nor the constant
lighthouse lamp.
Quarrelsome lament,
gulls spew forth ‘free’
tearing through hunger
in stranded debris,
on floundering flesh
flap and stamp,
no beachcomber
ever shall find me
down by Davy Jones’s locker
I stole his rusting key,
will he forgive this audacious young scamp?
Quarrelsome lament,
gulls spew forth ‘free’
The rocking tides
My cradle ‘neath the sea,
lovers slow on wet sands tramp,
no beachcomber ever
shall find me.
Dry those unanswered tears,
get up off your knees,
put out that lighthouse lamp.
Quarrelsome lament,
gulls spew forth ‘free’.
No funeral, no bowed eulogy
nor sombre psalms
in churchyard grey and damp.
No beachcomber
ever shall find me,
quarrelsome lament,
gulls spew forth ‘free’.