Low Tide

a gently breeze slides its hand under my chin

and brushes my face.

the distant rush of the unceasing tide

echoes under the full moon.

as you and I walk on the shore of the Indian Ocean.

the remains of vendors’ stands litter the sand,

and small, spiderlike crabs skitter from each

patch of seaweed to another.

the grains of sand crunch softly beneath our toes

as you and I walk on the shore of the Indian Ocean.

small pools with confused fish swimming inside are

scattered across the beach where the tide had left emptiness.

we stop beside a shallow pool and watch the fish,

barely dipping our toes in the water

as you and I walk on the shore of the Indian Ocean.

we turn back toward our hotel.

the manufactured lights from a dozen resorts

parallel with the reflective radiance of the

moon on the distant waves and wet sand

as you and I walk on the shore of the Indian Ocean.