Wishy Washy

Here it comes again
Marching 
With the tide!
Driven by a naughty wind
Umbrellas
Turning 
Outside in.

Every other day it seems,
Filling to the brim,
Urns and pots,
Capacious things,
Wished or not
Compelled to swim.

Hard not to feel
When it recedes 
To leave its mark
Just washed up,
Like Noah ... ... ........ ...

JL 20 Sept 11:18