rest you upon the neap moon’s smile
what was once the high tide’s reach
is now an estuary of stranded thoughts
the broken boat hanging on its chain
wrigglies in the veins of the mud
reed-spliced the wind flows into
one year and out of the other
distant their surf breaks on the reef of times
they are gone now but they will return
for they are closer than you think
rest you upon the neap moon’s smile
nothing that begins lasts
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