The Tide

The Tide

The sound of wind and waves divert my thoughts
And lure me down into the tide and sand.
The spray of water, tiny grains do plot
And kneeling, I accede to its wet hand.

The ebb and flow caress my hands and feet.
I lay against its flesh; it bathes my core.
I feel its strength begin to wane, recede;
I follow as it leads me down the shore.

Another morning from afar I see
Another kneel into its moist embrace.
I watch the naked other yell in glee;
The tide’s white foam splashing his chest and face.

I disjoin my soul from the tide’s sweet bait,
My knot moves chest-ward; I accept my fate.


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