Does it Matter?

Why do I care where is the shore, if 

traveling to the other side there is none? 

Here, the beach eroded, no longer discernible, 

sharks departing years ago.

Turmoil stopped its lively churning, waters calm. 

Once powerful figures, ancient lions of the sea, 

giant spectacles of brilliant corals,

steely boulders of whales,

fluttering movers of shifting underwaters, 

float on top, still and grey.

Strangled in plastic, caught in nets, hit by propellers of great boats.

I fear, in this kayak, of drowning in my own tears.

They are gone. As are we, soon.

Watercolor painting and poem by MJC