There was once
A mushroom under a shooting star
In the wetlands next to a stone causeway
Someone brought her beer bottle down here
And watched the moon slivering over the water
The same water we’ve always known
We pick heather in the mud
or collect shells and rocks and bones on the shore
We learn that life changes and bleaches and dries up
Salt and water and sun
And time
Can make the prettiest seaglass
