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/
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