Pilings so Old…

So old are the pilings,

Sticking out of the sea,

A hundred yards or more from the nearest street,

Where did they come from, when did they last see,

That of human contact, that of a building or boardwalk,

What was it they did support?

I always wonder when I see pilings sticking up, like those,

There are no records, regarding them, so instead I write prose,

To keep them in the memories of the many,

As only the few really get to see them, not really any…

They rise up through the sands,

At the waters edge at low tide,

And are barely seen when the tide is high,

But no matter, they are always there,

Even when the sand regains its height,

So that it covers up the piling,

So that man may not get to see it, or he might,

Just find the pilings smooth top, no more, in his sight…

                                                          © ed-2/25/04