The Tide Washes

The tide washes
against my knees.

I wish I could be
a thousand feet tall
and walk into the sea,
where each step
sinks a hundred feet
deeper.

Then, perhaps, I could see
you smiling, sunbathing,
on that distant beach.

Yellow one-piece…

it matches the sun,
indeed, Sol’s gravity
is the only embrace
sure enough to keep
your splendor and light
from coming undone
and burning away the sea.

I am not diminished by this steam.

I wade in the wake
of a Sun Goddess.
The hem of her skirt
is sewn with shells

and in her wake
wades the beast
that her gentle love
had spared.

One thousand feet
deep, I reach
and gather the shells
offered by the sea,

sew and weave,
sew and weave,
sew and weave.

© CG Tenpenny, 2021.