Salt thick drips beneath the pier dark wet
hangs in air humid
with seaweed exhausted
and driftwood damp
parts, body, of crabs eaten recently
left by birds pirate
who gorge themselves crabbing out of season
without license
barnacles shake themselves
from nose to tail
like a dozen rows purple deep of dogs tiny wet
beach just revealed more mud than sand
quicksand vile and smelly
who’ll steal your boots
for fun
and laugh as you curse
in socks gooey ruined
fall on your butt, fuming
then laughing,
only then notice starfish orange families
humans waterproof and full of humor
basking in sunshine warm and gratitude immense
floating in ebb
feet happy wet
