Disjointed houses on rocky shores,
weathered beams leaning against the wind,
paint peeling like memories discarded,
cracked windows staring hollowly at the sea.
Are they falling apart or endlessly built?
Each nail rusting in its own reluctant grip,
each roof a patchwork of sighs and salt air,
where laughter once spilled out like sunbeams.
Ghosts linger between walls unkempt;
photo frames cradle dust instead of faces.
This scatter of homes whisper stories untold,
the pulse of community caught in ebb and flow.
Once vibrant with voices echoing across tides,
now silence swells as waves pull back their secrets;
are these fragmented hearts yet to mend or shadows lost?
A dance with time, a carousel that’s dizzyingly still.
Crabs scuttle over stones where children once played,
gulls cry overhead; an elegy for what was bright and bold:
is land reclaiming its own with each relentless surge?
Or is it a hymn to rebirth concealed beneath debris?
Some dwell upon thoughts suspended mid-air:
Disconnected but tethered by strands unseen,
memories washed ashore like driftwood treasures;
a flicker in the fog, a stranger's touch from afar.
Communities stretched thin as clouds above,
yet the heartbeats reside within empty halls,
unspoken promises wrap around faded doorframes;
are they seeds waiting to sprout under starlit skies?
In this space where echoes meet eternity’s edge:
whimsical dreams carried by curling mist,
forge ties through absence;
the strength may be unseen,
disjointed yet whole,
a map marked only by trust.
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