I inscribed a message to you
Out on the Pacific shoreline
But the crashing waves found it better to
Send the message with no bottle
To some stranded sailor in the sea
With a concerned wife who reads his unscented letters daily
So instead
With three miles of seaweed and a plastic knife
And away from the path of coastal access
My broadcast was made complete
And I took one last gasp of ocean air
Before looking at what I had done
You were not there (of course)
But it has been well preserved in a photograph
With me in the corner
I hope that when you see it
You will excuse the messy hair and overstretched smile
