Ankle Deep

Mollusk holes

burst like the sizzle

of morning bacon to mar

a smoothness that was there

a moment ago


The colony of Periwinkle

panics in its exposure,

strains indelicate tentacles

to dig back under, away

from limicolous beak


while the husks of the others

float then settle, settle, float

their beauty splayed, enhanced

in death. The shells are butterflies

around my ankles.


Tidewater rushes back, unquelled

no mere echo of yesterday

but reaching further

than what is expected


My feet suck into ancient sediment

I want to kneel upon this history

My choice is to strain or move

with creature surrender


I lie on the surgically smooth sand

waiting to be pounded and swirled

dismembered. I remember

the beginning, the now, and the end