Filling Holes

The ghostly little crabs
That live at the edge of the sea
Tunnel down and down
Fleeing the dusty air and brilliant sun
For the swampy depths below the surface
And come up for air only at night,
Rising from dark to dark
To bathe anew in the oily waterline
Come rushing, rushing freshly salted
To wet the starved gills
Spending days sending up bubbles
Like Morse code through layers of muck
Leaving holes for pudgy fingers to poke
Or the fleshy tip of a little toe
To dip into the sandy void
Pressing, wondering
After the millions of hard packed granules
Baking in the late sun
Why this sudden nothingness?
And with mindless care,
With gentle pats and nudges,
The tiny blowhole is sealed
Entombing the little creatures
In their watery darkness

From which they will rise again

Creeping like little gods

Amongst the reflection of stars

Reviews

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

Love the concrete imagery! You give away you poet soul in this...others might sit on the beach and read a steamy novel, but you are musing about beach creatures and turning it into this. A woman after my own heart. I don't even know you, but I get it.