Zara Raab
Lee-Latch

Over the incoming tide
The winds are coming landward.
Over the water they slide,
ramming the shore.

Cached in a rocky crevice
are tender barnacle young,
otherwise pomace
ground by storm.

“Stay well alee!”
yells the warning sea.
“Or drown-drown-drown,”
howls the wind.

But tiny, body-soft, and free,
they swiftly go to sea,
devising shells in no time
for sailing home.

<< return to the Table of Contents for New Series #8: Winter 2019, Volume 4 Number 2