sea surge whispers a requiem
for the drowned sheep
on Hightown Beach,
grey spume and white campion
dance in the whipped breezes
paying homage to the futile death
of the curious wanderer who
inhaled brine with her last breath,
whose final bleats were heard by
no one except the Curlews skipping
at the water's edge foraging for insects
as the sun-dipped scarlet on the estuary,
and God in his Heaven listening
for a million sparrows waiting to fall