"Six-foot surge...sweeping across expanses of rocky shore..."
“Six-foot surge… sweeping across expanse of rocky shores…”

River meeting incoming tide, liquid forces
Opposed, gravitational influence of moon,
Six-foot surge of seawater pushing from
Gulf of Maine, sweeping past outlying
Islands, into low rivers, across expanse
Of rocky shores, seaweed exposed. From
My window, I witness tidal turbulence,
Conflicting waves, eddies, swirling water
Nearby. No two rivers respond equally,
Ever-changing as depth increases, water
Reaching height, crescentic moon satisfied,
Tide and rivers eventually well as one.

Thus daily concerns of lobstermen and
Ferry pilots, skippers with boats of size,
Floating docks, ladder ramp steep inclines,
Small boats with long mooring lines stuck
Beyond rocky-covered slippery slime. At
Low tide we picked our way into island
Landing, channel made narrow, under-
Water rocks looming by. Slow and easy,
Small maneuvers left or right, depth finder
Goes shallow as we passed few feet over
Underwater rocky ledges.

River muck and seagulls, pungent odors
Linger on morning bays, as cloud-swept
Sunrise on Maine waters transform from
Gold to silver blue. Flowing time and tide,
Negotiating coastline rocks, concerns of
Lobstermen who haul pairs or triples of
Line-connected traps. From my window,
Life and raw shores are exposed to light
By poetry, cup of coffee, blueberry muffin.
Daily life joined and separated by boats
And rise and fall of Maine tides.

At my tall open window since sunrise, I watched forces
of river against the tide, listening to distant conversations,
boats coming in and out, seagulls snooping along mucky
riverbanks, my visit to Maine and Atlantic Canada near
conclusion.

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