Tides

TIDE IS OUT The iodine of the seaweed smells And the rattle of empty seashells Trouble not the whale’s sleep While crabs scuttle to the deep TIDE IS IN Shriveled seaweed in basalt crevices revived Fish skeletons washed under the rocks Boats slurp and plop out of the mud Hungry breakers eat afresh the land .................................................. Other poems of mine, similar to this, are available at https://www.fictionmagazines.com/magazines/five/