The jetty was formed by Martian hands.
They must have seen a point of vulnerability where the sea began-- and exploited how slowly
We, here, move to correct ourselves.
I was thinking about a bell.
The insides were unquestionable--copperish gutsy cluck bronze, with a char funk peal.
Of scooped beebee metals dings clung to the wall--
A clammy yut or snail-pearled deadlog.
When it rings anymore, a bit away,
The cracks develops an urn
Which is apologizing.