The Tide

the water falls away.
Rocks appear and mussels.
The shore is naked.

We go about our work,
piling mussels in the pail,
feeling the slither underfoot,
the sea is coming to reclaim its own.

All slowly sinks from sight.
No mussels, rocks, or pebbled beach.
The line of seaweed
marks the sea’s dominion.

Lari Smith