Tuesday, December 14, 2010


When you tumbled and fell, hair tossed
in seaweed strands over sandy shell
and beach glass, those slippers tangled,
their golden laces forgotten

the tide came in,
by cunning sweep
to lick your soles, your palm
outstretched, a hopeful fan of fingers
rigid with the effort to drink in joy

Rachel Westfall
December 14, 2010