ankle deep, knee deep
that far, no further.
The place where tides come
in and back, in and drag back,
that’s the place of life.
Stand. Let the water pull you
not on the dry
not in the deep.
It will call,
siren of dark water,
tremble your arms.
Stand in the dark-light
no sun, no night
forms ready to take shape.
A wave-voice, a tern-voice
cries, What am I? Am I?
One bare foot
cold with wet
gritty with sand
dark water raising
salt air moving
a star pleading.
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