• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 12
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Sea Bed

The sea spreads her lacy
petticoats wide on the dunes,
dry as dusty animals
grazing in the field.
Over and over, she licks
their flanks till they
disappear. From above,
from the view of a pelican
hovering over a trawler,
we can see the tide
rise, sweeping off every
shed shell polished by
the shifting of wind and water.
And here, so small we hardly
notice, a woman sleeps
on her pillow of sand.
She doesn’t sense
the surf coming closer
till it almost touches
her curved instep, like
a blanket she has
tossed aside. It goes on
hollowing the dunes with its
subtle blades, casting up
thick tangles of kelp,
driftwood bouquets.