Raw
Misty
Morning
mossy beds
seaweed drying
upon clam-adorned rocks
deep mud pilfering
shoes and small things
all forgotten
when tides come in
better to be on shore
than to be out searching
better to be safe
instead of stuck waist deep
in clay-like mud
magnificent
nefarious
stealing
sludgy
thick
mud


the water is cold
as is the mud
mind the tide
the seaweed clothes and covets
what is lost
The clams find homes
in what cannot be found
the mud paints
the pale shoes and things