Last night the sea heaved up a creature,
one I could not explain.
Half-boat, half-animal it seemed:
ribs of rusted tin, skull smooth as plastic.
My daughter played in its house of bones,
bouncing pebbles like syllables ringing.
She kept asking its name, how old was it?
Was it a dragon? Oil like blood dripped.
‘I don’t know!’ I said (sounding unscientific):
she pulled out bolts of its neck to sit on.
I pursued it in books: the Bible dumb.
She ran in and out of its tunnel of questions.
by Mike Jenkins
from A Dissident Voice
Rambling At The Bridge Head 