Red Tide (Valparaiso Poetry Review; Fall/Winter 2019-2020)

Authors: Rob Jackson

 

RED TIDE

 

 

The sea gasps

 

as crabs litter white Sanibel sands,

 

claws outstretched and flexing.

 

 

 

The pocked hand

 

of a starfish

 

clenches slowly skyward.

 

 

 

Soles plate the beach,

 

eyes dark and lusterless,

 

gulls gorging jelly.

 

 

 

A manatee bloats near high tide

 

as blow flies swarm

 

to pierce its skin.

 

 

 

Onshore winds whip

 

panicgrass over beach dunes,

 

raw in their exposure,

 

 

and a child bears water's malice,

 

a rash from swimming,

 

the scratch of asthma's rise.