the edge of sea marks the threshold of words

tide ripples explore dry sand-grains

foam writes capitals over stone

creates calligraphic seaweed

with ever-changing loops and scrolls

water fills cavities blocking hollows

so I salvage letters arranging them

into my pattern aligning

consonants with wind-blown vowels

to make full phrases. how deficient is

ruled paper, its mill-made smoothness

and bleached silence mock living forms

that rush and slither off salt rocks

now tracing glistening down-strokes

I meet these lines, feel my inadequate

pen struggling to summon sea images

only my regular breathing

brings life to this tidal poem