A Poem on the Website of
the Red Dirt Writers Society

Tides
by Beth Stephenson (Nov 2010)

The embrace of dreams is stripped away.
Thrust into a shivering shower
I may not tarry with the day
Though Earth throws not her misty cover

Iím caught in the invisible tide
And tumbled in turbulent morning gray
Drawn in the current six lanes wide
At sea in the expected way.

But there are transients on the beach
The man behind urges me away
The daily destination reach
Yet I watch them in the haze

And I turn out of the surging race
To the shore where the dayís still young
And feel the warming, rising sun
Painting perfect freckles on my face.


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