White caps keep down brimming frowns, shoved into water tight bottles,
Tossed to sea to seal off a perverse picture with weed, wood and moss,
A stolen glance into Atlantis mirrored in a wobbling reflection, it sighs and moans,
Cold pebble eyes stare back, they could be anyone’s skimmed stones,
Tide licks black, slick rock in heightened hopes,
Only to be stopped short with a crack,
A dam built all the way to the back.