cotton clouds
ripple staticly
in the lightening
sky, reminding me of
nothing so much as the
wet grooves of sand high
tide leaves behind down by
the shoreline. perhaps the
tide isn't rising as we
thought, but rather,
receding after reach-
ing its apex, slidi-
ng out of grasp.
like all tides
it is invisi
ble until
retreat,
eviden
ced by
marked
fa-
ces
.


my second attempt at poetry in many years (the first doesn't deserve to see the light of day yet). constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated :)