Tentacled Lagoon Worm

Gold cherry
Poem of the week

By onemorething

Wed, 07 Aug 2019
  • 2448 reads
10 comments
 

The estuary has its own tides

that arrange the sand in pleats

and disturb mud for feet 

of wading birds and bait diggers

who bend for lugworms, head down.

 

Both forget to look up 

across the brackish water

rendered to molten pewter

beneath sunlight:  aglow and evanescent,

they miss the nests of song along

quivering marshes, the levitation 

of wild, sibylline voices.

 

I am carried above quavering reeds

that nurse fledgling spirits;

vulnerable and tender, but hidden well

beside the harder shells of pincered beasts

and tube-dwelling tentacled lagoon worms. 

 

Some of us are residents of the betweenness,

witnesses to each transition in the wash

over barnacled oyster beds

in the long push to be lost

in the salt of the sea.

 

Certificate U
Poem
Nature

Comments

Submitted by airyfairy on

A poem that beautifully captures the particular atmosphere of estuaries, hauntingly existing between land and sea.  This is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day!  Please do share/retweet if you enjoy it too.

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

This is amazing onemorething, you've captured everything about natures wonders. The estuary is so full of suprises that we don't even think about, but you've written a poem that reminds us of that miracle of life.

Well deserved of the gold cherries.

Jenny. 

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thanks very much Jenny. Yes, I love water and have often lived by rivers and seas as I’ve moved around. Estuaries have a special quality though and a landscape all of their own which seem magical to me. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for commenting and thanks airyfairy for the golden cherries. A lovely surprise. :)

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Brilliant description of incoming tide being "the long push"

"pincered beasts and tube-dwelling tentacled lagoon worms" makes them sound like fantasy monsters :0) I like your contrast of the diferent uses of shells, too. So many details. It makes me think of  a big station, lots of things going in different directions. But unlike a station, somewhere wonderful to be

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thanks! I hadn’t thought of that, but it is busy with details, like a station, yes. I’m sure there are many poems in stations, but as a daily commuter I’d have to think very hard about that as you say. I’m usually trying to breathe through my inner rage about delays. Estuaries, though, much more my kind of station. You always leave very thought provoking comments. Thank you for reading it. :)

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

You have managed to capture the remoteness and wild bleakness of the area, while also bringing attention to the life of the intertidal estuary itself and the birdlife and song of the rushy edges. Thank you. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thank you for your very kind comment, Rhiannon. Remote and wild places are definitely places that spark the imagination. :)

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

This is our Poem of the Week - Congratulations!

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Wow. Thanks very much! :)

 

Submitted by celticman on

Lovely poem.