marriage

Further tides to be carried in, on a wash over footed paths.
Smocked stones piled flat, heaped and scooped, fir tracked in backwards, with a lazy step, a drag, to the shore tied branches.

And underneath a man lay back, indigo ragged and gone from the day, his female, his woman, curtained as a float, spectored highness, an awful thing, buttoned and pride-vested, carried no fir, no stones, but held her head, went to lay by her man, thrummed and rushed asleep by the salty wet