~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ebb
In my good night's
sleep high tide
of my dearest rancor turns.
Nary a moon
shied me any glint of it.
Then this little shift, a
fish switched its
dorsal ripple opposite &
slack took over. Black water,
blood flavor, settles off
shouldering stone. Reliefs
of ribbed sand rise.
Out to sea slides
flood temperament; it tows
some wrack along as some
lapses to drain behind:
dainty placations kinked in matted
sargassum, mineral chimes.
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