Clams On Parade

Clams on parade go salty down Slip into comas oceans Before the waves come in as awkward Shells crash on rocks awakening Before the dawn they are alarmed Drink in the moments fathomed Investigate the currents of their ways Those familiar with sand will understand Clams stand erect at greater depths Too deep to measure as they contemplate Restraints imposed on them by muscles Clamped mouths roll out tongues that fade Closed tightly in smiles of tidal wonder Clams hold on with one foot dangling Granite works that way Anchored to reality Shell shock is all they’ve got Must we wait for oyster logic? Pressure sets in when air’s depleted Mud is soft to the touch beneath And cloudy when under tons of seas Gathering objects in the dark Can make it easy to forget Oxygen is needed to catch your breath Stationed on terrains already under way Hard gray armies hang in unison Oblivious to sights above the waves Obviously sounds are drowned or muffled Above, birds come to pry clams free Not to set them free but crack them open Interested only in sustenance for the day To loose them from the rocks To drop them from on high and call it lunch The ocean waves goodbye in deep reflection As the sound of salty friends go down Seas become deep in thought But not deep enough for clams protection