by Debby Peebles

Created on: June 14, 2008   Last Updated: June 15, 2008

The river is empty of high tide.
It has gone from the middle of a
hot, summer's longday.
My water has retreated.

The low tide shows off the nakedness
of the mangroves.
The midsummer sun barks down at
the mud.
Critters scurry from the sun
and burrow down stinky holes,
that they call home.

I want my water back.
Take this mud away and submerge and hide,
the critters from my eyes.

I need the flat glare of high tide.
Staring serenely up at me before I fall,
freely into my high water.
I want the peace and calm submerging me
into the green and flow.

Come back, High Tide!
I'll be waiting for you.

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