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Wave Trawling

Where the tide licks a sandy beach a running ripple thins to wash a ring of rounded pebbles - there, a muddy ribbon trickles through brine rinsed trinkets surged up as a slosh of time from the oceans depth. Here be the bones of seahorse dragons, and the beached and bloated pods of marine algae, Fractured mollusk shells splinter, carapace and claws swell in a mutual dross, a trawled-up flotsam tossed upon low spin drifting waves. A sculptured driftwood expressed into mythic forms anchors its art where the wind combs. Sometimes coins, both new and old, surface to be pocketed once more. Obscure metallic treasures knuckle and poke-mark the shoreside with their unanswered questions. I walk an ankle-deep dawn light shipwrecked on my own shores edge. A seagull's homeless cry keeps me fishing for new depths.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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