A friend recently reminded me of a poem I had included in my little book on tidal action. In remembrance of all those summer months at all those beaches and all those tides, I’m re-visiting the poem this month, “Time Catch.”
The tide laps closer. It seeps
into the dungeon and moat,
and finally absorbs the castle.
Up and up and almost to our log,
and then it pauses.
We watch the hesitation step
and wait. The day the baby
choked, everyone stopped, leaned
forward and waited, and then
breathed again when he coughed.
The tide recedes. It bares
wet beach and exposes
all the other secrets.
It moves out and out and beyond
where we had ever walked.
And then it pauses. Beyond
the lover’s question and before
its answer we wait. The ocean
has skipped a heartbeat.
–from Second Beach near LaPush, Washington