awash (to b kabchef and g lumbert)


the tide of human feelings comes in
the kelp of annoyance the salt water tears the foam of compassion
sand crabs of denial burrow quickly into the mushy sand of secrecy
and it all makes a brew a melange a wash
to be a human ebbing and flowing with and without companions
to breathe with the ocean of the indifferent world

it is still a world that gave and gives us life
that moves us
sometimes lifts us on that seventh wave
sometimes grinds us into the grit with remorseless undertow
and we may wallow and bob
we may drift and be particle-polished
we may surf for the thrill and the transportation
we may drown and become flotsam

we may even become the tide
wash over lives and beat on rocks
dissolving their minerals into ourselves
we may drag souvenirs away at ebb
and say hello at flow


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