These are the solitary people

Whose minds are slowly eroded

By the sound of the wind

That blows over the sea

And the sound of the gulls

That cry over the sea.

They have been here so long

They have forgotten their names,

And the names of the cities

They came from.

They are afraid of the sea

And the noise of the wind,

And they move in a slow circle

That never ends.

They are made of iron

And steel and rust,

And the salt of their sweat

Runs down like tears

To eat into their hearts

And corrode the dust

That lies so thickly

On their faces and their hands.

They are impossible to wake,

Impossible to move;

They have gone so far

They can never come back.

These are the people I see

When I look in the mirror.