I walk under water
at the lowest tide of the fullest moon.
Kelp-soaked rocks, never seeing light,
I touch now.
Welcome to this world.
Take me into yours.
The seagulls cry,
surprise or gratitude,
at the treasures exposed.
Uneasy sea anemone
and gooseneck barnacles
hold their breath,
biding their time.
Ears to the ground,
urging the tide back over them,
like bread
willing itself to rise.
Published for the first time in Wild Roof Journal (Summer ’26)