Ruins
Beneath the azure waves, a lobster crawls,
In search of what will be his latest meal.
A gold and crimson fish darts past two walls,
Then hides behind an olive-colored wheel.
A broken dish becomes a hermit's shell;
The lichens have reclaimed the tiled floor,
And all that still remains of one small well
Is but a ring of stones and nothing more.
And, all the while, a patient starfish clings
To this mosaic, one young maid and man,
Once captured in the act of giving rings,
Forever touching one another's hands.
	In unknown tongues, the picture says but this:
	"The only permanence is love's true kiss."