the edge of sea marks the threshold of words
tide ripples explore dry sand-grains
foam writes capitals over stone
creates calligraphic seaweed
with ever-changing loops and scrolls
water fills cavities blocking hollows
so I salvage letters arranging them
into my pattern aligning
consonants with wind-blown vowels
to make full phrases. how deficient is
ruled paper, its mill-made smoothness
and bleached silence mock living forms
that rush and slither off salt rocks
now tracing glistening down-strokes
I meet these lines, feel my inadequate
pen struggling to summon sea images
only my regular breathing
brings life to this tidal poem
