once more i want to stand
upon that beach
remove my shoes though you know
i hate the sand against my skin
but i want to stand at the edge
of the sea
my feet in the wet sand
the water swirling around my ankles
i will stand against
the pull of the water
as sand is drawn out to sea
and i sink feet first
i want to remain there
as moon toys with tide
ground down like sea glass
the ocean and sand polishing me
standing still
sinking into wet sand
until the sea is over my head
and my edges have been smoothed away
Words and Feathers 
Love it!! My new favorite of yours. 🙂
Thanks! I’m glad you enjoyed it.
It’s that round head that has all the edges! Yes
Are you implying block-headeness as a pre-existing condition? Or something else, something…edgier?
ha. there’s always something edgier, but no. all the edges are housed within our seemingly smooth mind. thanks crow
This is fantastic! I may have to steal it someday. I love the image of you being polished and rounded by the ocean waves. Kind of a sexy image — no wonder the sea is frothy!!
Thank you! I just read an article about sea glass. I guess it germinated.
You ought to publish your poems.
That’s what the web is for 😃
A perfect summary of exhaustion. At least that’s how it feels to me. (K)
Thanks. I wanted to get that feeling of when you were a kid at the beach and you felt the waves trying to drag you out. And just giving in to it.
That pull of the ocean sand is like being a part of the whole.
It’s the great dissolution.