Fay Slimm.

Mystery.

 

 

Mystery.

 

Iron-hard the half-shell of a once sporty
sea-cavalier now finished and washed
up on the beach beckons to me.

Granite claw open as if eyeless gaze still
saw passing fish and waited to clamp
by pinch-action without release.

Weapon of death fashioned in sinuously 
unbreakable tendon this crab-intent
still survives in hinges like steel.

Oh the mystery which lies underneath
oceans which if but once understood
could revolutionize lives here.