Tides
-The soft breeze blowing unsettles grains carrying them away from their space Tumbling across and through and over, falling from their former place Sea salt air blows on them and slows them, chilling them and grounding them The cycle of crashing, the waves, the water beckons, drawing them near Each gust of sea borne breath, tempting the grains to continue Tempting them, to never return, as if they could, to where they were Each swell’s rise, shaking them, each with the frenzy of possibility