Sometimes the pieces don’t transfer well to my blog – my apologies. If you’re having trouble reading the poem, please find it below:

High tide once dominated

with hasty, anxious crashing

oppressive thunder. It turned

and left ripple-stained sand,

to trace its apex, nod to its descent.

 

It is a slow retreat.

 

diminishing crests yet haunt dissolving foam.

Even this gentle lapping wields an artist’s power

sketching and erasing a vulnerable canvas.

 

But it will retreat.

 

The heaving swells will calm to soothing cadence

and the roaring will cede to its echo;

tidal pool treasures will be revealed

along the wrinkled shore.

Churning white caps will disband,

dwindle to horizon glitter

that winks back fond reflections

and forgets high tide

and pain.