Whyles, I’m gled
The sea blooters
The scrats
Screived
Doon
Its
Margins.
It dichts itsel
Clean like a bawdrons

Efter’n aa …
Think o the soss
Gin aa the sans
Were merked
Foriver an aye
Wi the names an graffiti
O ilkie gangrel body!

Naa. Ower mony kists
Spyle the view.
It’s jist as weel
The years ding aa o’s doon
Recyclin the aisse
Like the sea’s sweel.