Dune Study #3

The wet side of the border
is treacherous even to us,
the most conquering land
dwellers. Here there is no
sure footing; the smallest
wave may undermine
the mightiest planted sole.

Yet here thrive tiny ones,
which our overzealous
fingers may crush:
coquinas, burying, and
unburied by each new
wave; crabs, tossed
up, borne back, all
in spite of six
scrambling legs. Here

prosperity comes with
surrender, unclasping
dear-held rights to
the conquering right
of the sea – resist
and find yourself
tossed rudely down; yield

to each wave and find
this force may soothe
as well as shatter:
even at night in your
dry-land bed, your
body will remember
the rhythm, carry you
on mighty-gentle sea
waves to sleep.

© 2013 Stacy Nott

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