RIDING THE TIDES

I’m here today
and gone tomorrow,
what else is there to say—
except, I should
have as much fun
as an Olympic surfer
along the way.
Moon-drawn tides flow in,
tearful tides flow out—
incoming surge brings
songs of morning birds,
outgoing waters create
such infinite sadness
I’m left as vulnerable
as a featherless bird.
I ride the tides with a gull
on my shoulder—looks like
I’m dancing. The higher I fly,
the closer I am to terra firma.
I smile.