words + photo by Robert Craig

“Eternity begins and ends with the ocean’s tides.”

— Unknown


The wind blows off the water. Every so often a sharp gust makes us turn away as we wander around what’s left of an old wharf. Still standing, but now leaning and lonely. I wonder how long ago it stared to fail. I wonder what memories these wood pillars could share and show me. Barnacles have made homes, marking the high-water line. Lower down, clusters of mini mussels cling to the wood as decades of tides surge and repeat. Remains and renewal.

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poemKaren CoveyComment