Seascape

Low tides drain peninsulas of rock,
billowing green islands. You walk past
depths you swam in last summer,
stir pools of kelp inlaid with marble:
you cull a baby's tooth, a crocodile tear.
Along the shore, weightless mounds
of seaweed give out the morning's heat —
sweet salty breath.
Sculptured by
water, stone plateaus unnerve
bare feet, the cliff you climb blown
slowly towards, lapsing away from,
this jewelled ocean. From the cliff top,
a view of sunken continents, skies
flecked with foam, a midday moon.