Wade With Me

Wade with me into the marsh mosaic;

The inviting pans of saline marrow

That wrench apart the bulwark shrubs,

Calmed only by the gentle stroke of green cilia

Hiding many a sharp beak;

Where downy plumes project a sickle moon

The whistles and chills of a mournful tune.

Beneath the sole stirs a sentient sediment,

Coarse tufts and fibres of fraying sentiment.

Sedentary,

Cold in thoughts long exhausted,

Surprised, and displeased to be exhumed.

Let bleed from the mouth

The nourishing silt,

Cut free from tidal fruits

Ripened by the violent, brisk batter of iodine mists

And delinquent currents of the raging sea,

To find rest (and gratitude) beside the waxen blades

Of bleached terracotta that sway in the haze.

Let us sink into the tissue bedding;

From the alae,

We breathe and disperse in the clay

With a welcoming fade; a sobering decay.

We stretch thin from the roots within

These contemplative ceraceous skins.

So wither and trickle and filter away;

Absolved of guilt

From the Hells of the bay.