Shifting Sands

A running sea chokes the throat of a cave then runs away letting it breathe again. Starfish light up under a luminescent surf then are pushed into sandbars to dry-up and die. Beach balls are swept ashore severed hands still gripping tightly. The image is ghastly and mainly untrue unless the hands are a warning for you. Everything is crowding the dead into shallow living places and vice versa. Prophets walk barefoot predicting the endless tumbling nature of wave-burnished pebbles; soothsayers think we don't know what's coming but we do.