Poem: Work

Work OnceI kept so stillthat the Fiddler crabswhose burrows lay inches from my toesdecided that I bore them no threatand emerged to resume their digging,brandishing distorted claws,sorting grains of sand with infinitesimal clicks,the air full of their collective scuttle. I swear I thoughtthey would scatterat the vibrationsof my pulseas it echoedthrough my feetinto the tidalContinue reading “Poem: Work”