Reclamation Project
Sunken shapes of claw, paw, toe
betray those who trespass on the beach
when tide is out.
Shells, their chambered lives
destroyed by roiling waves,
spread detritus like chad.
Stones that shine with wet color,
bronze, gold, orange, onyx,
dull to grey as sea breezes
dry them out.
Evening tide awakens, reaches,
erases evidence of interlopers,
leaves the shore like a bedsheet,
taut, smooth, tucked in.
— Sarah Edwards
