Block Island
Waves crash heavy above me.
They smuggle sunlight far from shore
riptide's golden cargo.
The tide is going out.
It leaves me here, drifting
between the crushing ocean
and the deep, oppressed sand.
Quicksilver beaks flash above me.
Crabs scurry, fearful,
their iodine flesh a gull's success.
Time moves on.
It leaves me here, sinking
in moonlight filtered trough a liquid sky
focused on my stardust flesh,
my soul a sea's success.
Beautiful and uncomfortable! Love this line: "their iodine flesh a gull's success."
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