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Anchor
 Look at history
decaying... how many ports did this rusty iron pass, how many sea
floors drag? What happened to its master, its mother lode? Was it run
aground also, with its worthy crew, or left to flake and fade into
the forever waters alone? But see how it catches the sun's golden
kisses and proudly sends them back, revelling in a final fling, an
unexpected moment of god-like glory. Looking far more majestic and
strong than ever before. Anchored in the rocks, staining them orange
with salty blood, but not giving in, not lying down... Not until the
wind and wet have bitten through its acid heart, and it crashes,
cliff-like, its friends, with a cheery wave and a rainbow splash, to
lie at ease, at home, at last, on its sandy ocean bed again.
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