Small Houses

Small houses by the shoreline,

breathing deeply with the tides,

have all day to watch the ebbing sea.

Please let me make a home here,

in the clear and salty air;

and someday the ocean will remind me

to fill my lungs with breath as deep

as the blue of water and of sky.

When it rains, I’ll drink hot tea,

and in the sun I’ll sit outside,

amid the fireweed waving gently

in the breeze.

Every day I’ll walk the shore

when the tide is out,

and press my sorrows into footprints

in the sand.

The sea will come to swallow them

and carry them away

and if it brings them back tomorrow

They’ll be polished new and clean.

One day the sea will swallow me

and carry me away

and wash away my footprints

in the sand.