March 7, 2026
The line is drawn in the
sand as we stroll
along the shores -
stepping over shells -
detritus from the depths
of the past.
Our toes dip into the
emerging waves -
gentle in their approach
at low tide.
The cold emanates through
bone and sinew - deep within
our bodies - a shock
on a warm summer’s day.
We juxtapose the
wildness of the sea as
our compact forms -
so clearly defined by
skin, hair, and clothing.
Our images are shrouded
by protective covering -
reminiscent of the exterior
of the oyster shell.
We continue our journey,
the footing difficult,
our toes, connecting -
grabbing - sinking -
becoming - boundaries - blur -
our images fade
into dappled sunlight,
our voices lost within the
call of an osprey, and
the waves breaking on shore.
We become the sea - we are cradled - swaddled
in time.
Our hands join.



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