The Rising Tide

 ‘Glebe Crash Repairs’ – the entrance sign –
to the small workshop is flaking,
The crab has shucked his shell.
and the hermit has departed
after decades of breathing fumes
and the fine sand of grinder dust,
eyes fading from the flash of welding,
flesh cut ten thousand times
on cracked metal edges.

A scribbled note tells
how his property was acquired
for the M4 motorway.

Put your ear to the shell:
hear gentle waves
as the dark tide rises.