mossy stone

a bit of nature broken off and dried
but what we hear is not the whole sad tale
if we were ever not to let the scale
alarm us were we not so dignified
it would not be so hard to set aside
those things that error and sorrow entail
allow the little ship to set full sail
and watch it leave upon the rising tide
the greener waters of this warming sea
contain no hope for us this winter day
but this is not our land and we must go
to stranger places where the things we'll see
are not imagined yet in work or play
but those are not the words we have to know