A tidepool never stops to rest
Updated: May 30, 2020
The water tells me to partake in its meditation, tells me we are of kindred salt
daughter, she croons, even the periwinkle snails add to the eddies
And I take that as an invitation
to make my nest beside the mollusks
I laugh at the sea and its repetition
evening tide, I ask, does not the beach
tire of the clockwork – its metronome master?
She falls to kiss my toes in response
Inside a rock pool so many strangers preen themselves for my sole viewing
admire our multiplicity, our closeness – how could you ever know us all
And I am amazed at the failings of our own biology
I long to take on the algae’s form and give myself to brine
lady, clicks the beach crab, where does it come from, this loudness you carry?
Later in the bath I’ll listen while my fingers prune,
and taste salinity on my skin.
This poem was originally published in Paragon Press in Aug. 2019.