Unlike Anything

And old boats don't run back to the sea

Once beached they stay there

Out of reach

Their wooden bones bleaching

Under a seagull sky

Sea salt leaching

From their creaking hulls

And old boats don't run back to the sea

Unlike those summer tides

Unlike those days of sand

Unlike those rock pools emptying

And footprints sinking

Running back into the sea

We were unlike anything before

And old boats don't run back to the sea

Hiding nets and hooks they stay moored

Safe from the high tide

And winter storm

Old rope frayed and worn

Won't help to moor me now

Unlike anything anymore

And I am running back to the sea

Sea salt leaching from my eyes

Footprints sinking

Under seagull skies

Unlike anything anymore

A high tide and a winter storm

Unlike anything before

Old boats don't run back to the sea

You once said that to me