Residue

All forms of life serge in upon the cavern of the cliff, fish and spawn of fish, bodies of birds and seals and fishermen, twigs and pieces of broken ships, leaves, fibers, fabrics — propelled by tides and moons and strange quick jets of fear and hunger. Seaweed gathers at the cave's round lip, sifting the tide as a whale's mouth sifts the tide, clutching with a thousand shiny tentacles, winnowing with a mass of yellow leaves, And yet the most translucent shells are found inside, washed up high and delicately placed upon the gravel bench, the bluest, smoothest stones are there, and the whitest bones.