The Drifter

Washed ashore...
Along the coast...
She finds woods every morning...
The tide recedes...
Leaving behind dead wood ...
Driftwood...
The drifter ...
The lifeless shapes...
Waiting to be picked up...
Coloured and contoured ...
To give it a shape.
The Sea ...
Throws up the drifter...
The dead on to the shore...
She picks them up...
Carves them ...
And gives them shape...
The drifter turns into a showpiece...
She shows off with aplomb.