who won't remember

what matters now is how we make the jump
from earth to ocean and just where we'll fall
under the shadows of the trees that tall
and slender each grew from the rotting stump
of their dead mothers and we'll see the clump
of smelly seaweed that we would not call
a harbinger of what could soon befall
the hero for in truth each is a chump
a message comes by ways that we can't tell
and only those who know may think to say
how weight of mangroves keeps the land in place
between this land and sea we'll pause a spell
the ones who know will not have gone away
and magic guarantees there'll be no trace