Writer
Roger Higgins
Friendly Street Poets, South Australia
TIDE
Imagine a tide rushing to your head
then pulled through your belly to your feet
by an unseen force that hides
behind mackerel clouds.
Imagine a wave turned to foam
breaking on your knees, stomach, breasts
whirlpooling around your elbows and armpits
sucking back along your thighs.
Imagine sharp-edged grains of sand
scouring your ankles, your eyebrows
your cuts and blisters
your tiny melanoma spawned by years in the sun.
Imagine also the crisp clarity
of a moonless night
and skinny-dipping
in the light of a million stars.
Talk to me about the moon
about surf and storm surge,
whisper to me about hermit crabs,
find my footsteps misplaced in the backwash.