Low Tide Gift

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And there they were,

tucked low and close,

among the sea stones. 

 

In search of mussels,

I found a star fish,

suddenly thrust into

a direct hit of sun.

 

A moment to make sense of this,

and then: 

more of them,

large ones, 

blue,

white,

coral,

star fish.

 

Low tide,

just minutes spent out of water,

I watched as the ocean returned

down into the crevices.

 

I went down, too,

and stayed,

lost in the reverie of tides,

as the water settled in around their arms,

opening,

displaying minute filaments,

white as pearl,

slowly reaching for,

rock,

kelp,

and each other.

 

And there I was,

caught,

not in a net, 

but in awe,

as each one vanished,

beneath the waves.

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The Story, Rewritten

Out beyond the sunken shallows,

a saltwater bay,

almost still,

save for one loon.

 

This loon,

alone,

and I sink down,

interpretation low and sad.

 

I imagine it lost,

abandoned,

its mate long gone:

that storm,

those lights,

that boat.

 

But if I bend it back,

change the story

I can see it content,

after a morning bath,

she’s clean and alert,

a webbed foot thrust out behind,

as it floats,

giving in to the currents,

it knows deep

in the silence of its bones.

 

A small boat approaches from the north,

and then I hear it:

a quick trilling tremolo of warning.

 

There’s another loon,

beyond the buoys,

swimming in.

 

I am hushed,

and humbly whisper,

“I’m sorry.”

 

I leave them to what they know:

water,

inside and out,

fresh and salty.

 

Alone and together.

 

The story,

rewritten.

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This Dog

This dog,

as still as a frozen dessert,

a screen door the only obstacle

between her

and that chipmunk,

squawking in a rhythmic riot.

 

She has caught two,

both dead within seconds,

perhaps longer in chipmunk time.

 

Mostly,

the chipmunks get away,

the ornamental border plants

at full density now.

 

After the chase,

with nothing to show,

she trots back to her blind,

appearing nonplussed,

maybe even content,

to have tried and not succeeded.

 

But she has the memory of a chipmunk,

held tight in her jaws:

it happened

and in each attempt,

the memory rides high and brilliant,

at the border line.

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Among Them

What I would have said to you,

is how magnificent,

your mind,

your heart,

the way you see,

the way you feel life,

laughter like raining crystals,

the way you narrow it down,

to an essence.

 

Your eyes,

keen and bright,

seeking nothing more,

than the purest of light,

truth,

leading to love.

 

Nothing wasted,

there wasn’t time,

never enough,

and when you died,

forty years ago today,

my heart grabbed hold

of what was left of you,

and now,

awake early again,

in the deep morning tide of bird song,

I stop to listen,

and imagine,

your voice among them.

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With Darkened Talons

There was death here,

a fast flutter of wings,

over quickly,

blood,

feathers,

sinew,

all left in the snowy yard,

and now I wonder,

if they remember,

if caution rides their bones,

as they snatch seeds,

quickly and suddenly,

they pause,

as if an attack is imminent,

I stretch to look,

that hawk perhaps,

perched here a year ago,

but nothing,

they hold still 

as winds buck and roar,

marking frigid time,

 at last,

winter is having its say,

and death,

with darkened talons,

found its prey.

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And There They Were

And there they were,

as snow,

wet and heavy,

laced the trees 

with essence of white.

 

They arrived together,

his red,

her brown,

he made sure 

she was fed,

down to the ground,

and up again,

 a seed delivered.

 

And then came others,

black capped,

gray slated,

blue jayed,

darting flakes,

large and full,

filling the yard, 

the trees,

the air.

 

He called,

she listened,

and they were gone,

into white,

and gone.

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Pointless

Events not to my liking,

life should go my way,

the ranting starts 

inside my head,

it’s going to be a long, long day.

 

Already I am fighting,

against people, places, things,

too early for this falderal,

there’s just no way to win.

 

I know I should surrender,

Been told that all my life,

retreats,

workshops,

books

and apps,

analysis and deep insights.

 

But sometimes all this knowledge,

stays just outside of reach,

and by the time I get there,

I don’t know what I need.

 

So this I must remember,

everything will change,

get up,

get out,

no fear,

no doubt,

there isn’t time to waste.

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