When the breeze met black pumice hills, it was awkward.
All the locking eyes, the passing hellos and goodbyes.
But the wind was relentless.
Impatient, it begged the sea:
Oh, dear sea, please help me.
Be my wing and hammer,
My carrot and stick,
My dulling motion…
But it will take time.
To wear her down to black sand and dirt,
So you two can build your garden,
Lots of time and sunshine...and work.