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