Low Tide

First, pick your way across pool-wet rocks

or slip down the slick-seaweeded ramp


Find the sand ridged with last night’s high tide

and walk toward the distant soft surf


Toes in the cold runnels—still wearing shoes?

Take them off, leave them here


a waypost

a beacon


Watch your feet as you walk

It shrinks the distance


Count the swirled sandworms

piles of sodden glow-green


(You will be there before you know it)


Here a high-dry sandbar—

an island it was


now one with endless wet-brown sameness

under cloud-weep blue-gray sky


You are tired my heart but don’t sit

don’t pause


No need to look up or back

You are plenty far from home


(The water slides toward you)

5 thoughts on “Low Tide”

        1. Sorry to hear that. Yes, it will pass, but that doesn’t make it any easier when you’re in the thick of it. Sunny thoughts, coming your way!


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