THE SHORE

A poem

My breath rides like a feather on a wave.
It tickles me.

Something rolls beneath my ribs:
if still, I hear the shore inside me.

I see mist rise from the water,
like foam with nowhere to go.

I smell life spill into the sand like clean dirt from a garden:
now wet, and crumbly, and loose.

The water rises and cools my feet,
then warms my heart.

Like a feather on a wave, 

it comforts me.