Low Tide At Tybee

Low tide at Tybee Island—naked sand,
unclothed of waves and foam, is undisturbed
except for flitting feet of some small birds;
the sea bed offers up an outstretched hand.

Above, the storm approaches from the east—
a tropical depression, clouds that brood
and hover like the darkness of my mood—
the sky and I, antitheses of peace.

Yet even as the winds and thunders roar
both out at sea and in the depths of me,
the beach is sitting calm and quietly—
I stand atop the dunes enrapt, in awe.

The storm arrives, the ocean starts to churn;
I watch as long as possible, then turn.


©Ellen Azorin