rippled in the breeze,
curled edges running quickly to sharp sand,
changing the shape
of this strand,
where bare white crabs
sleep in shallow,
where flesh pink shells glisten
like jewels and
in a summer-blue sky.
Where Oyster Catchers ride the tide
inches above foam crested waves that break,
the way they always do.
My shadow, cast on seaweed covered rocks, will change, and change, and change.
Welcome home said the sea.
In the muddied mix of life, my footprints finding a trough of fertile silt.
~ ~ ~
Shape Shifting © 2014 Teri Flynn @ Masked Native