Love Song

Here I am, grey haired and lonely,

singing out to sea in a voice that cannot compete

with the thunder of the tide;

yet still I persist, for nature has shaped me to it.

And if, by some unlikely chance, my song drew a mate,

she would almost certainly take umbrage,

be indignant at first sight;

but, as I’ve already pointed out, this is my only way of being.

So here I am, cursed to an activity

that degrading me, promises only further degradation;

churning out a song

that the waves themselves contrive to suppress.