When the riptide comes
you are the force of moon
p-u-l-l-i-n-g water & draining estuaries,
leaving in its wake a smell of seaweed.
“Why did you leave the water running?”
I sigh, and cannot find an answer.
“I forgot”, does not suffice. It never does.
And as the eager plovers feast
on worms, their bills DIGging, searching as
the castles that we built from sand are
crrrrrumbling in the wind.
“You can never learn”, you fill the shore with sighs.
and just between your “always” and my “sometimes”
the water still recedes — jellyfishes d(r)ying.
“I can iron out the creases”, I whisper
like a grain of sand sticking, clinging
to the glazing cornea of a fish the water left.
And when the sand is drying it fills the voids with silence.
But tides are turning, the pull of moon
flood the sand…
and surfs that fill to pools
refresh again what’s stagnant.
“You can cook the dinner”, your smile is water,
the moon is full and I open up the wine.
Today Claudia take care of Poetics at dVerse and wants us to use layers in our poetry. I have written this back and forth adding a splash of color here and little highlight there. I hope it turns out to be what Claudia wants to see.
May 12, 2015