Floating
The tide comes in each morning,
bringing us new gifts;
transforming everything to sand
it sifts and sifts and sifts.
The frigate birds sail over all:
the headland and the town.
I don’t know what they’re looking for.
They never venture down.
A string of pelicans fly north.
Seconds later, they fly south.
I guess the reason is not one
has fish within its mouth.
The beach cat sits here looking
out to the open sea,
willing all the fisherman
to “Bring a fish to me!”
The tide comes within feet of me
when it is at its height.
Tucked away here, in the shade,
I do not feel its bite.
When tide goes out, I go with it
to float beyond its curl.
It does not know if I am fish
or shell or boat or girl.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
I love the whole thing but especially the last stanza!🌊
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Thanks, Melissa.
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Beautiful Poem. I used to enjoy the beach during my childhood, monthly once or twice.
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For years I rented a house right on the beach for a month or two. I stopped during covid. Going to do so again this year for just a week.
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A very lovely poem my friend
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Thanks. I actually wrote a much longer version as well, but sometimes less is more.
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You’re welcome.
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Your poem is so joyful, Judy. I love the different birds you describe and, especially, the beach cat waiting for fish. The final stanza is stunning.
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Thanks, Kim.
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My pleasure, Judy.
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LOVE this . . . and most especially the ending. It made me smile…which is a very nice thing to do first thing in the morning. Thank you!
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I can wish for no better reaction, Lillian.
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This is beautiful! 💜 I especially love this part; “The frigate birds sail over all: the headland and the town. I don’t know what they’re looking for. They never venture down.”
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I love watching the frigate birds. They are perpetual motion machines, up there, with seemingly very little effort.
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I love the way you set the slow movement of the tide in this poem…
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Thanks, Bjorn. A very astute observation.
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Delightfully Dickensonian!
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Thanks, Ana. A very complimentary comparison. But, that said, you are correct. It does have the cadence of “a narrow fellow in the grass. …”
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She could be so playful! Are you familiar with the verse which begins, “To hang our heads ~ ostensibly / And subsequent to find / That such was not the posture / Of our immortal mind…”?
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No, I don’t remember the poem, but it has the same cadence. So much to think about in that one line! I love Emily!
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It’s a two-verse poem, and the second verse reads, “…Affords the sly presumption / That in so dense a fuzz / You, too, take cobweb Attitudes / Upon a Plane of Gauze!”
A total character. She lived in total seclusion ~ doubtless less bored with her own company than she would have been with everyone else’s…
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Delightful.
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