Fay Slimm.

Tide-Turn.

 

Tide-Turn.

 

Twice daily the lavender sea

flattens and makes up its mind to aim

fresh currents at underneath

dark-cobbled greyness  

of boat-bobbing harbour and fill anchored

bottoms with foamy increase.

 

To slide greasy fingers between

barnacled stones as tidal force weaves

turn-coat creep of fresh waves

around furry carpet weed,

lush with ardent pulse wet kelp raises

green arms to hourly push.

 

Walking dry shores I frequently catch

myself asking why

the come-and-go ocean has no rest

but indifferent tides

just turn and provide me no answer.