To my brother, Michael
Two boys by a rock pool,
You remember how we were?
Shoulders tanned as sand,
Carrying tin pails
With painted crabs and seahorses
From the sea's edge - and then, over the years,
Over aquamarine carpet tiles,
To our office desks, PCs and files -
'Look what we found!'. We adjust our ties,
Peer down at discoloured
Seawater, dead crabs, dull stones.
'Can you come out to play now?' And all
We tell them, those two shivering boys
With their seadrift treasure, is