Standing Water

April 13, 2016

The sea was grey,
So much so that when
You looked, your eyes
Couldn’t quite tell where
The horizon really was.
Compacted wet sand is
Terrific for holding shape,
Each paw print a smudge
That remained long after
Her feet had left the beach.

The air smelled of salt, and
The ebb and flow of waves
Repeated their song like a
Pair of giant watery lungs-
Inhale and exhale.

Every wave brought me
Closer, into the eddies and
Pools between the rocks.
I hear her splash her way
Back to me, whining and
Barking for me to return.
But here is where I’ll stay.