On water’s lapping
Edges of land reach out and take a drink
Clear skin slips back to leave a white foam
Parched from heat, earth drops
to the weight of my foot
The print fills and waters edge moves in
partially trapping my presence
Water fills me, then escapes leaving behind
a stagnate pool of floating resolutions
But we are compressed, one firm while the other moves
Creating the shoreline with penetrating force
leaving behind the undercaving
dismissing any boundaries of the water’s edge
and my footprint
sherrystruthtofiction 